Illicit Saints
by Warlordess
Summary: The only witness to the homicide of her mother, Aurora Williams hid the evidence left behind and took on a new identity as Misty Waterflower. Years later, she is forced to confront her mother's murderer with only a few friends at her side. AAML. Complete.
1. Prologue

****

Ugh,Author - Chibi/Warlordess

****

Disclaimer - I don't own Pokemon, but the idea of this fic was my own, minus the influence from such crime drama's as "Cold Case", "CSI", and "Law and Order".

****

Summary - The only witness to the murder of Rose Williams, the eight year old girl hid the evidence left behind and took on a new identity. . . As Misty Waterflower. Now she is forced to confront her mother's killer with only a few friends at her side. Will they survive?

****

Warning - Contains sexual references and displays, graphic violence, etc. Rated 'M' for mature themes.

OoOoO

****

Title - Illicit Saints

Prologue

OoOoO

It had been a terrifying ordeal.

Rose Williams had been a Rocket for the notorious organization up until the day she found out that she was pregnant with her first and only child. She hadn't been an evil person, and so she'd requested the eligibility to leave the team permanently, knowing that such a place would negatively effect the growth of her offspring. However she was more than the average grunt and so she'd been denied.

Rose wasn't the type to accept her fate but she hadn't had much of a choice when she had unsuccessfully attempted to escape on her own. After caught, she was placed in incarceration with nothing left. She was fed twice a day, stale water and the most meager of meals. Sometimes she was lucky enough to have an understanding friend watch over her cell and she was handed a few extra scraps but, two months later, the facts were clear. . . She was becoming ill from malnutrition and, undoubtedly, her unborn child was going through the same.

With five months until her baby was due, Rose needed a break. She needed a sensible and safe pathway to freedom and, lucky for her, it soon approached.

Team Rocket had started working on a top-secretive project. As she was more competent than the rookies, word had traveled fast. The plan was hatched.

Though loyalty had always held strongly with her, she knew that she owed nothing to Giovanni or her fellow members, and so she betrayed them with no regrets. She lied her way out of her prison cell and helped them create something by the abbreviation of an "EAB". It was a deadly device and she knew that the world could, in time, be enslaved by it. But the product would take many years to complete. Nevertheless. she stole a copy of the manufacture disc and held it with her for every life that it was worth.

Three months to go until the birth and still unhealthy, Rose was out. It was at a price, however. Her best friend, who'd helped her go, had been caught. Giovanni would have been livid with her but not enough so as to kill her immediately. Unfortunately, he was a devilish type who loved to prolong the torture of his enemies and followers. Death was not the only thing that awaited her.

Yet Rose made it out to the small cape of Cerulean City. There she made friends with the local Gym Leaders, and their daughters, and there was also Bill, future creator of the Pokemon storage system. She lived a happy life through the birth of her baby daughter and through the girls' early childhood. It had been a cold, stormy day in October on the day of the parturition and so the infant was given the name Aurora Williams in order to retain warmth of character.

Over the years, it would seem that Rose's past life as a Rocket had escaped her, most like the receding memories of a terrifying nightmare, but it wasn't over yet.

They'd never even had a chance to relocate in order to prevent her daughter from viewing such a catastrophe. Rocket Executives barged into their home at around two a.m. on Aurora's birthday. They forced themselves upon the two females' and took the new eight year old captive. A strange weapon held to her young girls' head, Rose had no choice but to comply.

"What do you want from me!" She stood defiantly, watching the child's struggle to escape from the man's arms.

"We know that you fabricated a copy of the EAB project disc; you also fled from your position as a member of Team Rocket, supreme squad C-1. . . And you ask us why we've come to retrieve you. . . ?" The largest one stepped forward, "Honestly, Rose, where is your decency? How could you act so deliriously innocent? You're lucky that we haven't destroyed your world already. . ." He cocked the estranged gun and pointed it at the side of Aurora's head.

"N-no! Stop it, please! She's only a child!"

"The Rocket member code requires us to value no one's lives but our own. If this ratty child means so much to you, then why not just hand over the disc and come quietly?" Aurora couldn't understand what was going on. The only things that she was aware of were the fact that it was hard for her to breathe and that her mother was crying aloud.

Her adolescent mind could think of only one way to escape this situation. And, with that thought, Aurora bit down hard.

"Ow! Holy shit!" The lead Rocket dropped the red-haired rodent, who scrambled away, "You little brat. . . !" He held up the gun again, "If you think any scratches you've had hurt you, then you've never experienced pain. Welcome to the darkest corner of Hell. . . !"

Rose's eyes widened, "Aurora, run! Get out of here!"

The shout distracted the Team Rocket member long enough for the girl to follow her mothers directions. She ran from the house and down the cape towards the city, but, instead of heading for the gym, she turned away and en route to Mt. Moon. She could hear more footsteps behind her, signifying that the strangers were intent on her retrieval. She ran faster, straight into a patch of high grass. She stilled her breathing, hoping that it would be enough to hide herself successfully. The rain and wind swept up the cape lake around her and she was left to sit in silence, hoping that she would soon see her mother again.

Unable to tell the time, Aurora sat there unknowingly as the minutes swept by. Her exaggerating mind told her that it had been hours and her stomach growled with hunger. Her long would she have to stay here? Would her mother come get her anytime soon? The questions flittered through her useless mind as she settled herself deeper into her spot. . . Until she heard the rustling from behind her. Panicked, she jumped to her feet and began to step back. . . But that was her mistake.

"--There's the little bitch!" Came a shout from about ten feet away. She heard the pounding footfall of five pairs of feet, "Go, Beedrill!"

"Rattata!"

"Zubat!"

"Ekans!"

"Go, Koffing!"

She was surrounded. Aurora stumbled backwards again, this time towards the area of rustling from before. Parting the grass and shutting her eyes, the redhead awaited her fate.

"Zubat, use Supersonic! Confuse her so that she can't escape again!" A few seconds later, a strange wave swept over her, disabling her ability to move. She collapsed to the ground, her legs feeling somehow numb and liquidated, "That's right. . . Just let it go. . . You have nowhere to run. . . Wait; what's that. . . ?" A new sound had made its notice to them. It seemed much like the crowing of numerous angered birds.

Aurora, now drowsy beyond belief, didn't recognize or distinguish the sound. Instead, she sighed almost contentedly as she felt herself falling away. . .

. . .Oblivion. . .

She awoke sometime later, slightly oblivious to everything around her. Her face was so covered in mud that her eyes were barely visible, but they would have been dull and bare in any sense.

The thunder made her flinch but it wasn't enough to stop her from realizing that something was wrong. She ached all over from the bruises and scratches and she was still confused as to what had happened. . .

Where had those men gone? Hadn't she been surrounded by their Pokemon just before?

A stroke of lightning crackled against the skyline and Aurora turned. . . She'd heard something. Something sharp. And it was crippled by a scream.

"M-mama. . . !" She knew that shout, "Mommy, hold on!" She rushed back towards Cerulean City and up the cape towards her house. . . She was fifteen feet away when she heard the voices.

"It's a shame, Rose. You were a brilliant executive member and a profitable help to the association of our cause. You gave it all away for a rat of a child only to die here today by the very weapon you helped us create. A shame but, nonetheless, you've lived your worth." The many black-uniformed men jumped into the carrier basket of a Dragonite which then, in turn, took flight, "Goodbye."

Aurora took her chance as soon as they were out of sight and ran for the fallen heap laying on the family's doorstep that was her mother.

"Oh, mama--!" I'm sor--" She cut off as her knees hit the ground and her bruised arms attempted to wrap around the woman's shoulders but the elder flinched and pulled away in shock. Fresh tears were pouring down her face.

"Oh my God. . . T-they told me that the Spearow d-devoured you. . . ! Aurora, they said that t-they killed you and left your body for -- oh, I'm just so glad that you're okay. . . ! Ugh. . . !" A drop of blood crept over the curve of her bottom lip and she coughed up and into her palm, "L-listen, honey, I-I don't have much time. . . I-I need to give. . . You a-a couple of things. . . P-please, get me a knife. . . From the kitchen. . . Hurry. . ." Rose sighed and collapsed helplessly onto her back as softly as she could while her daughter ran through the back door into the house.

She didn't have much time left at all. . .

Aurora came back hardly half a minute later, walking cautiously with the large, sharp implement in her hand, wondering anxiously what her only parent planned to do with it.

"Now l-listen to me, baby. . ." Rose accepted the knife and held the cold steel to her chest, ". . . Your mom-my i-is going to have to go away for awhile. . . I-I don't know when w-we'll see each other again. . . B-but I need you to do. . . Something for me until we d-do. . . I-I have something that those men were looking for. . . T-they didn't find it and so. . . I-I need you to take it with you. . . Along with this. . ." And Rose, her eyes jammed so tightly shut that nothing could pain her anymore, it seemed, she drew the blade across her left shoulder-blade, unclotting the open wound that had been placed there minutes ago. She screeched in agony and her daughter followed suit.

"Mommy, stop. . . ! Please; I-I'll go call the police to help you! Just stop. . ." She broke off into loud tears and slammed an almost numb fist into the ground.

"There's no time. . . Now, here. . ." Aurora's mom pried a capsule-like bullet from her open and bleeding wound, her breath laboring worse than ever, and placed the scarlet-painted steel piece into a small box, "Please, honey, just. . . Just go down to the Waterflower home and. . . And give them. . . This. . ." She collapsed back to the ground again, her deep, shallow breathing becoming misty in the chilly early morning air. The most frightening part of the experience was watching the woman close her eyes as her inhaling slowed and her chest stilled, "I. . . Love you. . . Aurora. . ."

"Mommy. . . ? Mama, no. . . No!" The young girl held her mothers' blood-stained hands as her spirit faded away, "Please come back. . . Please? I-I. . ." She sniffled as she laid the body down, ". . .I'm sorry. . . I love you. . ." Her throat ached now and she knew that she'd better get inside before she became ill. She took the small box her mom had given her and held it to her heart before stumbling to her feet.

As though she were a snake, she slithered slowly and silently into town, exhausted from everything that had happened that day. The streets were empty and almost cold as her bare feet tripped over the rain water and cluttered cobble-stone.

She reached the door soundly and gave a feeble knock before turning her back and sitting against the door. She was dimly aware of a couple of voices beyond the wooden frame but she couldn't truly comprehend anything anymore. She felt herself falling away far before the door opened behind her and she felt her back leaning towards the floor.

". . .Mama. . . !" An echo shouted into her ears.

OoO

"Aurora. . . Aurora, dear, wake up. . ." Someone was shaking her poor and tainted frame. She could feel the crusty and cakey layer of mud crumble at their touch and her brow strained to tighten at the feeling, "Honey, please, we need to talk. . ." The voice was now choking in something close to misery.

Wait; that wasn't her mother's voice. . .

"Mrs. Waterflower. . . ? W-what am I doing here. . . ? Where's my mommy?" Her eyes blinked open and she grasped at the light blanket wrapped around her body. She felt a small square something under her palm but she was still too tired to recognize it.

"Your mother. . . ? Rose - she. . . Aurora, don't you remember what happened?"

The child blinked again and thought as hard as she could but there seemed to be some wall blocking the access-way to her memories.

"I-I don't remember. . . What happened?" She felt confused and out of place, "Does mama know that I'm here?"

"Aurora, your mom. . . She's gone. . . She's - she's. . . I'm sorry, but I can't give you any details. . ." It came back to her at that moment. She remembered everything from the chase to the return of her broken and dying parent. That's also when she remembered. . .

"M-mommy. . . She wanted me to give this to you. . ." Her voice was lax of most emotion, but not necessarily monotonous, and just strong enough to be heard as she removed what she finally distinguished to be a box from under the light thermal cover. She was attempting to keep herself from crying aloud as she spoke again, "I. . . What should I do. . . ?"

"Robert and I will discuss it. You're welcome to stay here until you feel that it's time to leave for your Pokemon journey. I. . . I know that this will be a hard transition for you but. . . You shouldn't worry; this is your home from now on, so you'll always be welcome here." The woman accepted the box and got up from the bedside chair and headed towards the door leading into the upstairs hallway, "Why don't you take a bath to clean yourself up? It might. . . Make you feel a little better. . ."

The door snapped shut and Aurora was left to sit there alone. She felt the tears gather behind her eyes and sobbed into the pillow tucked under her chin. She didn't know what to do with herself anymore. . . Was it really worth living through all of this? Her mother. . . Gone, forever. . . And she knew that she would only become a burden to the Gym Leading family with her being there.

She rose slowly out of the bed and stood on her nimble and swollen ankles. Everything still ached and her skin was pink around the fresh cuts proving her liable for infection. She sighed sadly from the pain and walked cautiously into the private bathroom across the room.

She turned the tub faucets until the water was at a comfortable temperature and then stripped herself bare. Slowly, her discomfort rising, she sunk into the tub and felt the soothing warm water melt around her flesh. She gave a small moan upon opening her eyes, red blazing before her. Her chest hurt at this point almost constantly from the crying. . . Or lack there-of. She really didn't have it in her anymore.

After washing and rinsing herself clean of the dirt and such, and then sitting in the soft comfort of the warm water until she couldn't stand it anymore, Aurora rose again from the folds of the now-filthy light waves around her.

She wrapped herself in a towel and stood on her feet, stumbling forward a bit before settling against the cool plaster of the wall. She dried herself off and exited through the formerly closed doorway into the bedroom. The sheets had been changed and a fresh set of clothes lay on the bedside chair.

She breathed deeply before settling down, and she picked up the shirt that lay on top. It was a yellow tank top and, underneath, a pair of denim blue-jean shorts. It was just a plain and simple pair of clothes.

Feeling more uneasy, she placed the light material over her eyes and yanked down. The fresh cuts felt like they had been ripped open and the bruises felt as if they were exhausting her with pain.

Soon it was over. She glanced at her reflection on the way downstairs, feeling odd and out of place. The staircase felt like cool steel beneath her feet but the wood was so refreshing that she almost slipped, catching herself just in time.

That was when the voices in the distance stated her name and she froze, interested.

"Aurora's life is in jeopardy! Do you really want to risk her? Do you know how much this box means to the safety of the world! And her mother died to protect it, knowing what it was worth! It's a responsibility that we have to help the girl understand and fulfill. . . !"

"Dammit, Hailey, you make me sound like a cold-hearted bastard! I love Aurora just as much as you do, but do you really think that we should risk our daughters for this? Why didn't Rose turn in the evidence when she had the chance?"

"Because Rose knew that it still wasn't enough, according to the plans on the disc, for the EAB, the final version was to have the Team Rocket logo on it! That the one used to-to get ride of Rose didn't proves that it was just a prototype."

"So. . ."

". . . It's enough to prove that it exists but not enough to tie it to Team Rocket. . . ! Robert. . . I promised Rose that if anything happened to her before she could escape with Aurora, I would take care of her. I swore. . . Don't make me break that promise to her. . ."

The green eye peering through the almost fully-closed doors widened considerably but didn't turn away when a large shadow leant against a chair ahead.

"Of course not. . . You wouldn't let me do so, in any case. Don't worry, I have no place to truthfully contradict your decisions. . ." A sigh, "But you know that she can't keep that identity. . . Pokemon have photographic memories and, if I know Team Rocket, they'll be coming back for her, especially since they left so much of necessity behind them. Aurora can't be Aurora any longer."

"It's alright; I guess that we'll just have to. . ."

The doors behind the two adults burst open and their heads snapped up as though the windows had been shattered. They stared into the eyes of one formerly innocent young girl, whose gaze was not in the present, but was staring at the brutal, dying face of her mother on the lawn outside of their house.

All she was hearing was the labored breathing of her mother, all she was seeing was the chilly fog arising from her paling lips as she slipped away. . .

"Aurora, are you--?"

". . .Not Aurora; not anymore. My name is Misty Waterflower."

OoO

In order to add to her acquired identity, "Misty" threw on a pair of suspenders and a scrunchie to grasp her hair at the side of her head. She proclaimed herself an individual both physically and spiritually.

Robert and Hailey Waterflower attempted to take in the girl as their fourth and youngest daughter but their help was unnecessary in Misty's eyes. And so they lived in a shadow formed by the redhead's past life.

Aurora Williams and any part of her existence disappeared from the face of the planet with the rain from her eighth birthday and, after ten weeks without successfully finding her body, she was presumed dead as well.

Misty spent the rest of her childhood depending on herself. At the age of ten, her "step-parents" were forced to go on the run from Team Rocket just in case they found out about Aurora's non-death. They took the evidence with them, leaving Misty with nothing left. She accepted the news in her own way, refusing to remain in the sixteen year old Daisy's care and starting off on a Pokemon Journey with her Staryu and a new bicycle as her company. While gone, she managed to catch a Starmie and a Goldeen, but nothing that would help her with the plan concocting inside of her head.

She grew into loathing the word "Rocket" and anything associated with it. When she met the boy, Ash Ketchum, her future best friend, she hated him as well, and so he became the electric tower for her to vent her anger on. But the goodness she soon noticed glowing within him caught her attention. And so she stuck out a few weeks with him, hoping that his friendship would help her live the life she'd sorely missed with her mothers' death.

But then Brock joined the group, and they decided to head to Cerulean City, the place she'd called home during her early years and the place she'd run away from in order to retain her sanity.

But Ash didn't know what had happened to her and she sure as hell wasn't going to tell him. She'd valued his opinion of her, believe it or not, so she wouldn't cloud his judgement of her by spouting her tale of cowardice.

So they arrived in Cerulean, Ash's one and only intention being to stop at the gym there and gain his second official Kanto league badge. She let him go alone because she didn't want to face her siblings' ridicule and she hoped her name wouldn't be mentioned. But something unknown to her drew her back to that place in the end.

"I'm here to win a Cascade Badge!"

"Like, I'm sorry but we've already, like, been beaten by three other trainers today. . . Seel is, like, the only Pokemon we have, like, available. . ." A flash of red light later and a puny water-type Pokemon appeared before the Pallet town native, ". . .And he's not a, like, really formidable battler."

"Awe, but I really need that badge to get into the Pokemon league. . . !"

"Well, how about we just, like, give you the badge? I mean, it would have been a victory of yours anyway, I'm, like, sure. . ."

"But, well. . . I'd rather win by a Pokemon battle, than just taking the badge for free. . . It feels more like cheating this way--"

"--Then don't worry about it! I'll take you on, Ash Ketchum!" The distant shout came from the stands around the arena.

"Mwah! Is that. . . Misty?"

The redhead leapt down from her place on the highest level of benches and came to a stand-still in front of Ash, her hands on her hips.

"Misty, what are you doing here?" Misty did an anime fall and, after recovering, glared at Ash for his dense attitude, "And what do you mean, _you'll _battle me?"

"Why, uh, little sister. . . What are you doing back so soon? You're, like, Journey isn't done already, like, is it?"

Misty took a small step backwards, finally aware of just what she was facing. The three reasons for her departure from Cerulean were staring right at her and she had nothing to say to them.

"Hmph! It's not like I wanted to come back; the only reason I'm here is because he needs to win one of _our _badges!"

"'Our'? What do you mean, 'our', Misty?" Ash asked.

"Well, Ash, since you need it to be spelt out for you. . . Allow me to introduce the _four _Cerulean Sensational Sister gym leaders!"

From behind Daisy, Lilly leant in and whispered into Violet's ear, "You mean the _three _Sensational Sisters and the runt. . . !" A glance of bitterness was shot in Misty's direction.

Misty sighed.

Lilly and Violet had been barely twelve years old when their parents had been forced to go into hiding, thanks to Misty's burden, so they didn't fully understand why it had to be done. By the time a few years had gone by, that confusion had turned to anger and soon after that, it had set in so strongly that not even the most profound knowledge could help to alter their opinions.

"I'm not a runt. . . !" Misty shouted.

"Wait. . . Misty, these three girls are your sisters?" But Ash's final realization was left to itself as the three youngest members of the dysfunctional Waterflower family started to argue.

After Ash and Misty had started their battle, which was then interrupted by Team Rocket's fumbling attempt to steal their Pokemon, and then Ash's, er. . . "Victory" and the gaining of his badge, Daisy pulled Misty aside while Lilly and Violet attempted to stun a dully bored Ash with their ballet and swimming moves.

"Listen, Au - I mean - Misty. . . Like, last week, my parents sent us something. They're fine, like, at this point--!" The oldest sister stated hurriedly, because Misty looked panic-stricken "--But they told me that they, like, were going to have to 'fall off of the face of the', like, 'planet'. . . That means no more, like, staying in contact with us. . ." Suddenly Lilly's and Violet's expressions of venom were clearly justified, "They sent you something, though. I, like, saved it for you. . . Here. . ." Daisy, who had moved to the cabinet to remove some anonymous thing from its' depths, returned to her side and held it out to her, "Do you, like, remember it?"

Misty stared at the small, blood-stained box, horribly maniacal memories flashing before her minds' eye, all of her mother's death. This was the box she'd been given that very morning, the one that contained such evidence so as to execute Team Rocket.

Shakily holding out her hands to grasp it, she asked, ". . .So they're finally giving it to me? It's my responsibility now, after all of these years?" Daisy nodded and Misty, feeling desperately sick to the stomach more than anything else, felt a single tear falling from her own eye as she was embraced by her oldest sister.

"There's, like, something else, as well. . . Mom and dad, our parents. . ." Misty's heart swelled gratefully at the comment, "They told me to tell you that they, like, love you. . . I had to burn the letter, of course, to keep our, like, necks away from the Rocket guillotine, but. . . They don't want you to, like, blame yourself. . . Like, whatever happens to them, it was still their, like, decision above anything else that allowed them to, like, do this for you. And I don't want you to, like, blame yourself either. . ." There was a stiff, uncomfortable silence that followed this statement.

"You were always my favorite, Daisy." Misty managed to joke weakly with a small wink.

"Oh, like, really? I daresay that I, like, don't have much to call competition. . ." They both glanced in the direction of the arena, where Violet and Lilly were chasing after Ash as though he were some rotten thief and shouting things such as the perfect brand and type of blemish concealer to cover up a zit that was starting to appear.

Suddenly, the weight of reality caught up to them again and Misty cleared her throat.

"Look, Daisy, I'm. . . Uh. . . I was sort of hoping that I could. . . You know. . . Keep traveling. I mean, not necessarily with Ash, since he's a boy and maybe there's something wrong with that, but. . . At least, if I'm on the road constantly, I can keep you all safe from Team Rocket, and. . ."

"--Like, Misty, don't try to excuse yourself like that. If you've found a friend in this, like, Ash kid then I won't, like, tell you that it's better to leave him alone. I think that staying with--" She was interrupted by the boy of which they spoke.

"Ack! Misty, there you are! C'mon, we gotta go before your crazy sisters come back with their crazy family films about their crazy underwater ballet performances! I don't wanna be here anymore!" He took her hand and began to try and pull her away while Daisy continued what she'd been saying.

"--I think that, like, staying with someone you can, like, care for so innocently is one of the, like, few things that can make your life a little easier. . ." The older blonde eyed the young girl, who'd turned slightly red in the face (whether out of anger or embarrassment was unsure), and winked with subtle intention.

"Eh. . . ! Don't read too much into it, please! We get that already by almost everyone we meet. . . !" Misty pulled her hand out of Ash's grip and it joined her other as she shook them rapidly in front of her face in panic, "And Ash, c'mon! This is my family, after all. . ." Misty almost choked on the word but avoided it just in time, "I haven't seen them in awhile. . . ! What would you do if I shoved you away from your mother after you'd gone so long without seeing her face to face? Let me spend a few minutes with my sisters in peace."

"Awe, but Misty, they scare me! Even more than you! And how can you be related to them at all? You all are nothing alike. . ." Misty was glancing at him, half-exasperated, half-angry. He'd obviously struck a cord with her.

"Look, Ash, if you're so terrified of us, then go wait at the Pokemon Center. Brock should be finished with getting supplies soon and I'll only be fifteen minutes, tops," Ash gave her a skeptical glance, "Please. . . Just give me this. . ."

". . .Eck; whatever. Just don't say that I never gave you anything. It's. . ." He checked the clock on the wall, ". . .Almost one p.m. I was hoping to head out towards Vermilion City before the day's over, so try not to take too long, okay?" And without waiting for an answer, he ran out of the front door of the gym.

"Such a self-obsessive, it's so irritating!" Misty stuck out her tongue at his shadow before turning back to her sister and guardian, "But, anyway, can you tell me how they are? Healthwise? And what about possible return date?"

"Listen, Aurora. . . _Misty_. . . Mom and dad were sighted and recognized by a Team Rocket troop as friends of the deceased Rose. They wouldn't have sent you that box if they could have avoided it but since, like, communication is pretty much deadly between us these, like, days, they had no choice. But, besides having to face the world for, like, and unprecedented amount of time without any, like, modern convenience, they're fine. They, like, told me to wish you luck on your journey. . . And, well, there was, like, something else. . ." Daisy broke off and bit her bottom lip, unsure of if she should continue, ". . . That box. . . Your mother - when she did what she did, it. . . Well, she knew that there was a chance that she might not make it out alive. . . So she wrote you a letter in case you ever came to be the one in possession of it. . ."

"Wh-what. . . !"

"No one read it; it was specifically, like, addressed to you. . . But you need to know that it's very likely that, like, it won't be full of jolly holiday greetings. Just be aware, okay?"

"Uhm. . . Look Daisy, this has been fun, really, but I'm due to be back at the Pokemon Center in a few minutes. I'm gonna go. . ." Misty discarded the box roughly into her red bag and took off for the door, "I promise to stay in touch!"

"Yeah. . . !" Was the only response Daisy could make, "I, like, hope so. . ."

Misty didn't open the box right away for fear that Ash or Brock would notice. In fact, it wasn't until she'd reached the town featuring the Kanto Princess Pageant. It was while in the small shopping center dressing room that she found the time to rip off the cover and look inside.

The words of her mother weren't able to make her cry like she'd hoped they would. No affectionate or loving proclamations were visible and any statements she read seemed. . . Obligatory, or empty of sentiment. Misty didn't let this knowledge hack her down; at least, not noticeably in front of her friends.

__

It's not as if she doesn't love you. . . She reminded herself over and over.

She had been given specific directions of what to do with the evidence left in her hands. She had to find some full-proof way of hiding the steel bullet away because, otherwise, none of them would be safe for as long as Team Rocket was still in existence.

But she currently didn't have the physical leverage to keep it properly contained.

Almost two years later, she came across the perfect Pokemon to help her keep the single object desired of Team Rocket away from their sights. The name of the distinct creature was Corsola, and its value to her was indescribable. Half water type and half rock, it was the only possible solution. Because of its stone-like hyde, if she could part a seam in the flesh, she could place the EAB inside. Now knowing what the EAB was in general relation (as described by her mother), she knew how dangerous it would be if Team Rocket's top-notch executives found out that she was really Aurora Williams, let alone that she held the one thing that could destroy them.

It took her forever to come across one of the Corsola of the Jhoto region, their homeland, especially since they only lived near the sea. After she caught one, however, she couldn't help but feel disgusted about what she had to do to her newest friend.

". . .Guys, I'm going out, okay. . . ? To get some fresh air or something. . ." She didn't want to alert her friends to the truth of the matter but she had no other way to go about escaping them.

"Uhm, okay Misty. . . But you know, we could look after your bag for you while you're gone. . . What do you need it for?" Ash stated. Misty would have thrown him off with a snide comment, but Brock's curiosity also seemed to be peaked.

"I, uh, wanted my Pokemon to get introduced to Corsola. But, uh, if you don't mind, could you take care of Togepi for me? She already knows him well enough." More like she didn't want such a young child witnessing its mother commit such a crime.

"Oh; okay. . ." They still seemed slightly suspicious but Brock rose from his seat to take the baby from her hands. After all, what reason did they have to doubt her?

"Thanks, guys. . ." She didn't meet their eyes as she left the center and they knew nothing from then, on.

About an hour later, she sat next to the ocean waves, Corsola's Pokeball in her hand. How could she explain to a Pokemon that she'd not yet made a bond with that she needed such a huge life-threatening favor from him?

"Oh, well. . . Gotta do it sometime. . . Misty calls. . ." She got to her feet and posed to throw the Pokeball, ". . .Corsola!" There was a flash of red light and the Pokemon appeared, glossy and apparently ready for battle.

"Cor. . . !" He turned to his master who, indeed, looked as though she were close to tears, "Corsola?"

"No, um, don't worry about me. . . I just. . . Look, Corsola, come here. . ." She collapsed back to the ground and withdrew from her bag another item; what appeared to be a completely ordinary bottle of water, "I need something from you. Do you know what this is?" She held up the bottle and removed the lid, "This is water from the legendary spring of Celebi. I got it when we met a friend of ours, on one of our adventures. . . It's used for a lot of human and Pokemon healing methods and potions. . . But when this water touches the hyde of a rock or ground-type Pokemon, the positive potential of this water. . . It's special properties. . . Are reversed."

Corsola didn't look like he fully understood, but he was getting there, and he looked terrified.

"I-I need to pour this water onto your back and open an internal wound. . . Please. . . The lives of everyone I know are counting on you." Corsola was back to being thoroughly confused now, but most of the fear that had been in his eyes was gone, "Will you please allow me to trust in you the lives of everyone important to me. . . ? I know that it will hurt but. . . I promise you that it's only to be done as necessary. After I apply the water. . . You can use your _'Recover'_ technique to heal yourself as much as you can while I place this. . ." She held up the EAB, its surface glowing against the early evening light, ". . .Under your skin so that they can't find it. If Team Rocket realizes that I've given it to you. . . But they won't." Misty rationalized as she shook her head in assurance, "Please know that, if you do this for me, if, at some point, I find another piece of evidence that perfectly identifies Team Rocket as the creators of this, I'll have to reopen that wound again and remove the EAB so that I can turn it over to the authorities as the weapon that terminated my. . . Rose Williams."

It had always been easier for her to discuss her mother when she called her by her full name and not by their relation. Perhaps it was because she felt estranged to her in that way, as she was now "Misty Waterflower", and not "Aurora Williams". She was alienated somehow from her former identity. . . Was it possible that Aurora Williams was truly dead after all. . . ?

". . .Cor. . . ?" The weak comment woke her from her reverie and Misty looked to the pale salmon and snow-gray shelled character before her, who was staring into her face with a resolute expression, "Cor Corsola!"

"Thank you. . . Friend, you have no idea how many lives you're saving." And so she set to work. She drew a spare shirt from her bag and dripped some water onto the cloth before applying it softly to Corsola's back. The Pokemon's screech made her flinch and she turned away for the first five seconds as her closed eyes forced threatening tears back behind her lips. Blindly, she grabbed at the ground, stumbling until she found the water bottle and preparing to dump a good amount over the creature's searing flesh.

A type of thick steam rose in a narrow layer into the air and Misty, trying to avoid it, toppled over in her rush. She noticed suddenly that her hand had swung unconsciously to pet the creatures' head in an attempt to quell the desperate and pained cries.

Her face contorting in disgust about what she had to do, Misty plunged her fingers into the depths' of the gash she'd made in the hyde beforehand and shuddered as she parted the innards to make room for the EAB prototype. Corsola shrieked again as she did so but followed that motion by smiling reassuringly at his master. Misty didn't have the heart to return it.

"Just. . . A little. . . More. . . !" Misty pulled back to take a deep breath and pick up the bullet before carefully and slowly forcing it in between the tissue and muscles and collapsed backwards, "N-now, Corsola, use _'Recover'_ the best that you can and then I'll get you to the Pokemon Center. . ."

Corsola nodded before following the command of its trainer but was stopped short when a voice called out.

"Misty, is that you. . . ?" It was Ash. Misty had just enough time to pack away the suspicious products she'd had back into her bag before he came into clear view of her, "Oh, good, it was your Corsola. I - wait - what's wrong?" His eyes traveled from Misty's sweaty brow to her scattered supplies to the blood dripping from her hands to the Pokemon leaning on the ground, precariously close to losing consciousness, "What happened here!"

"Uh. . . Eh. . . T-Team Rocket. They came out of nowhere - tried to capture Corsola - hurt him bad - I couldn't. . ." Misty spoke in broken sentences but he got the gist. It was the only excuse she had, and it was believable.

Ash seemed to be trying to hold something back but his emotional dam broke moments later, "You're not hurt, though, are you?" After she shook her head, he sighed and smiled reassuringly before stepping forward and laying a hand on her shoulder, "It's okay, Misty. I mean, if you couldn't prevent Team Rocket's attack. . . Let's just get him to the Center before he gets hurt even worse. . ." Misty could tell that, though visibly calm, Ash's eyes were holding an anger close to the unimaginably strong, "I'm surprised about how calm you are about all of this, you know?"

"Uh, y-yea. . . I guess that it-it's more of a relapse than anything. . . Return, Corsola!" She called back her Pokemon and picked up her bag before starting to run ahead of her friend. She didn't want Corsola to get hurt anymore. . . She had to deal with this now.

"Hey, Myst, wait up!" She halted suddenly, her heart racing at the sound of the name. He'd never called her that before now, "Uh. . . I-I thought that it would look good on you, s-so to say. . ." He continued sheepishly at her expression.

"Please, don't call me that. . ." Her voice was low, cold, and sharp but Ash still managed to hear her loud and clear. He was going to ask her about her reaction but she'd already started running towards the Center doors, "Nurse Joy; do you think that you could heal my Corsola? He's wounded pretty badly. . . !" She called desperately upon her reentry, and the female nurse, without asking any questions, set out to work.

It turned out that Corsola would need special treatment in order to heal correctly, and when Team Rocket attacked for the first time since that day, Ash kicked their butt three times as hard. Misty felt her heartbeat pick up again during that blasting-off, knowing that Ash, under the assumption that Jessie and James had been the ones to injure her Pokemon, was doing it for her.

They hadn't talked much since the night of the "attack" but she did find it in herself to thank him for what he'd done. When she did, he made it look as though he had no idea what she was talking about, but that was probably because Brock was watching the spectacle. Ash did give her a small smile as she turned her head.

But all of that had taken place almost two years ago. Misty had long-since returned to an empty gym to take it over while her sisters had gone, traveled to the Hoenn region and given up her Togepi to its paradise, and then returned to the gym again, subdued by the loss of her "child" and the thought of the anniversary that approached.

The next day would be a silent statement to the world; it would mark the ninth year since her mother's death, along with her seventeenth birthday. Her sisters were going to be returning from one of their trips and, as a gift, she would be allowed to start traveling again. Now that Daisy was a more competent trainer, she felt okay about it.

But those plans were to be executed in a different fashion than she'd originally hoped.

It was 3:13 a.m. when she poked her eyes open. The air around her was stiff, cold, and thick with tension. Her sights were limited in the dark but as she moved to turn on the light, something sharp cut into her flesh, soliciting a small yelp from her. Before she even had a chance to try and stop the blood-flow, a hand wrapped around the back of her neck and tightened in a fierce grip, making her flinch.

"Scream and won't even live to see the light of another day. . ." The growl of a voice and the raspy breath tickled her ear but her throat constricted in disgust and fear, "Good job, Ratticate. . ." She could feel his smirk, "No you, child, are going to get out of bed and show me to the place where you keep your Pokemon. Then you're going to show me the box. If you're lucky, we'll leave here without anymore blood being shed."

Misty trembled despite the voice in her head telling her to be brave. Perhaps it was because she was just a cowardly rookie trainer compared to these Team Rocket members; or maybe it had to do with the fact that she was in this situation yet again after so many years; or, quite possibly, it had to do with the fact that she knew that voice. After such a long while, she still remembered it.

After all, how could she ever forget the voice of the man who destroyed her life; the man who killed her mother?

Numbly, Misty got out of bed and stood on her feet. She could feel the blood dripping around her ankles as she headed out into the upstairs hallways and down the staircase. The hand curled around her neck was gone, but now she could feel the cold steel of a gun in its place.

Misty sighed as she walked behind the large desk just inside the lobby of the gym. The man standing at her back had begun a one way conversation. There were subtle whispers in the background that justified what she'd figured all along, that being that this man wasn't alone.

"You know, your mother was a very proud and loyal member of Team Rocket until she found out about you. . ." The man sounded smug and conniving. Misty tried to ignore his voice, but the words were another story, "What did she name you, kid?"

After swallowing the lump in her throat, Misty attempted an answer, "I don't know what you're talking about. . . Sir. My name is Misty Waterflower. My family owns this gym." The charade had to be kept up at all costs. . .

"--I damn well know who the Waterflowers are! But we both know that you're not a blood relative to this family. . ." Misty stilled as she knelt to her knees and began to figure the combination to the lockbox that she kept her Pokemon in. She worked as slowly as possible so that she could try to think of a plan but the pain in her arm was too hard to ignore at this point. He saw her reaction and continued, "Tell me, what is your real name? How much light did she fixate on your being? As much Hell as you were - you did destroy her life - she tried to find some good in you . . . In the least amount of expectance. . . A rape child, a dawn of light?"

Misty froze completely as all of the anonymous bodies and voices shook with laughter, which ricocheted around her head along with his words. Slowly, she undid the lock to the safe and inserted her hand but didn't yet draw anything out.

"What was that. . . ?" She asked hesitantly. She felt that anymore striking news would send her overboard.

"You did know, didn't you? When a new Rocket member is initiated, he or she must swear to serve the leader Giovanni in any way they can. Your mother did more than just steal Pokemon and develop futuristic technology. . . She laid down before the man and left him take her. . . Repeatedly, at that! Perhaps the little whore enjoyed his routines with her, eh. . . !"

"Sh-shut it, you asshole!" Misty removed her arm from the lockbox and swung it at him, hitting him forcefully in the jaw. Immediately, everything went silent.

". . .You are the same, you little bitch. . . C'mere. . . !" He grabbed her injured arm, making her hiss in pain, and dragged her away from the desk, ". . .You lot, round up the whatever's in that safe and then wait for me in the blimp. I plan to take care of the girl, myself." For the first time, Misty was able to see the man's face, and she blanched again and looked away at the sight of the manic grin apparent there, ". . .I'm just going to allow you to follow in the footsteps of your mother. . ." He whispered malevolently into her ear and Misty's eyes widened in understanding of his plans.

He pulled her into the gym arena and threw her harshly to the linoleum floor. The blood from her new wound smeared around her body as he nailed her to her position. She thrashed her body weight around as much as possible but it seemed to have no effect. The Rocket executive dropped to a few millimeters above her face and licked at her lips before forcing her into a kiss that nauseated her entire being.

She felt him groping at her chest, his gloved hands rubbing anxiously at the clothed flesh before moving himself down to below her waist to push up her nightshirt. Loosening his grip on her, she saw an opening and took it before he'd even realized what had happened.

"Go, Gyarados!" The giant serpent Pokemon appeared in a flash of red light and looked down upon its master for a command, "Help me, please! Use _'Iron Tail'_!"

The Rocket looked up in horror at the gigantic creature before him. Gyarados bared its fans at him as it descended upon his frozen form.

The man leapt up on numb and weak legs and attempted to run for it but he was caught off guard by the impact of a steel-like fin crushing his spine. The crack resounded around the room like a lone fire cracker and the Rocket shrieked in agony as the force of the attack sent him reeling into the air and through a glass-paned window.

She could hear the shouts from the outside and the panic and anger. Quickly, she pulled herself onto the Pokemon's back before making an order.

"Okay, Gyarados, we need to get outside so that we can get our friends back from Team Rocket, alright?" Gyarados growled in response and nodded its massive head, "Good. Okay. . . Gyarados, go through the front doors and open fire with a _'Whirl Pool' _attack!" Another growl and nod and they made their way outside where an army of poison, paralysis, and other adversary Pokemon stood awaiting them.

The torn and bloody torso of the deceased leader lay almost seventy-five feet away but the other members looked hell-bent on avenging him.

Gyarados' eyes glowed red and, almost immediately, the water from the Cerulean cape swept itself up into a strong party of twisters. They moved forward, completely under the control of the Pokemon, and separated from their single row in order to group around the men and women. They joined again as one and forced the Rockets into a small area before they screamed and were swept up into the funnel.

It lasted for only a minute before the lack of water and surface forced the tornado to slowly dissipate. The black-uniformed bodies fell the one hundred meters to the ground and crumpled in a heap, the bag holding Misty's captured Pokemon landing beside them.

Misty managed to slowly make her way to the ground and use part of her nightshirt to finally wrap up her wound. She picked up the bag of Pokeballs and turned to face her Gyarados.

"We've got to move quickly, alright? I need to get dressed and write a letter to Daisy and the others then put up notice that the gym will be temporarily closed. If one Team Rocket troop can get into the building, others will definitely follow. Gyarados, do you think that you can search around the outskirts of town for a reliable Pidgey or Pidgeotto? I'll send Politoad to help. Bring what you find ASAP, okay?"

After releasing the frog-like Pokemon from its Pokeball and shooing the two Pokemon off, Misty turned to the gym and ran inside to her room. She threw some clothes over her body, making sure to watch her arm, and ran into the bathroom to find a travel-size First Aid kit. After that, she found a couple of extra outfits in her closet, placed them in her bag before sitting at her desk and beginning a letter to Daisy, Violet, and Lilly, telling them about what had happened without detail.

She left out the part about what had almost happened to her. . . She didn't need anymore sympathy in life at this point. . . But she had to warn them not to return.

Misty pulled from her desk drawer five-hundred dollars from her Pokemon battle winnings and stuffed the rest in her pocket.

With the letter packed in a small envelope accompanied by the earnings, a peck at her window signaled Gyarados and Politoads' success. She picked up the envelope and her bad and ran down the stairs and through the front doors, locking them behind her.

"Gyarados, Politoad; return. . . !" Holding out the two Pokeballs, she accepted her two friends back into their barings, ". . .And thank you. . ."

A Pidgeotto fluttered down to her side and she kneeled down beside it, pulling out a couple of photo's and, after folding one of them up and placing it back with her things, showed it to him.

"Okay, see this girl?" The picture was a main focus of Daisy, Violet, and Lilly, and her finger, of course, was pointing to the blonde, "I need you to head out to the Cerulean Bay and give this to her when she steps up onto the dock; please?"

The Pidgeotto nodded affirmatively and obediently and cooed at her before allowing her to tie the message to his ankle. Then he took off into the air and Misty turned to the Pokemon Center to heal her Pokemon.

There were only a few people that she could go to at this point.

She was going to Hoenn.

OoOoO

****

Notes - Okay, first off, let me just apologize to those of you who requested a sample of this fic and didn't get it; and there are quite a few. The thing is, I started writing this fic up once while at the library since my home computer was down at the time, and then the floppy disk that I was saving it on stopped working, so I couldn't open the file. The thing is, the sample that I was trying to send you all was on that disk. I've finally gotten my computer working at home (old... slow... computer), only when I tried to look up your email addresses on the picture-emails didn't come in. I apologize, but there was nothing I could do. If there's someway that you'd like me to try and make it up to you, please let me know in your review.

Second of all, about the length of the fic. I know that a lot of readers like quick and easy chapters, but I have to say that I pride myself on my pages upon pages of writing. I know that this is a bit of a leap from "Closure" and "Possibilities", but I can't change the amount of words per chapter to match every readers' personality. Please don't hold it against me. Also, if you have any questions about the chapters while reading them, you can post those questions in your review and I'll be glad to reply to them in the following installation. Unless I plan on detailing them later in the fic, that is.

Another thing about the fic; because the chapters are so long, and because I plan to keep them that long, I can't be sure how fast I'll be able to update. I know this is upsetting, but I have next to no life, so lucky for you all, I spend most of my time in front of the computer screen. This chapter's taken me about... Five (?) hours... To type up, so perhaps the next one won't take much longer. However, I've only finished writing up the first two parts, and the third is in the process of completion.

Blame me; hate me; love me; Chibi will keep writing and updating either way. Until next time...!

oOo - Chibi - oOo


	2. Chapter One

****

Author - Chibi/Warlordess

****

Disclaimer - I don't own Pokemon, but the idea of this fic was my own, minus the influence from such crime drama's as "Cold Case", "CSI", and "Law and Order".

****

Summary - The only witness to the homicide of Rose Williams, the eight year old girl hid the evidence left behind and took on a new identity. . . As Misty Waterflower. Now she is forced to confront her mother's murderer with only a few friends at her side. Will they survive? AAMR.

****

Warning - Contains sexual references and displays, graphic violence, etc. Rated 'M' for mature themes.

****

Warning 2.0 – Actually, I thought that I'd just say. . . This chapter is probably the lightest of the entire fic. Rated alone, I'd give this part. . . A PG-13 to PG-16 rating. Don't worry, though. You'll see a lot of bloody action in the next chapter. Er. . . You'll read it, anyway. Also, a very small hint of Handymanshipping at the beginning of the chapter. Lol.

OoOoO

****

Title - Illicit Saints

Chapter One

OoO

****

Characters / Ages –

__

Misty 17

__

Ash 16

__

Brock 20

__

May 13

__

Max 10

OoOoO

By the next day, her arm had swollen red, making it extremely difficult for her to undress before using the ferry's shower in her room extension. There were also bruises forming on her chest because of the Rocket's attempted sexual assault. There was a lump growing on the back of her head from the impact it made to the linoleum gym floor.

The boat she was on would take five days (including today) to reach Littleroot, hometown of Professor Birch. Besides Professor Oak, this man was the one that Ash and May kept in contact so often, meaning that he'd probably have an idea of where they were in their journey. So Misty would hopefully be able to learn that they were close by and she'd be caught up with them in a matter of days at the most.

Unti then, there were only a few things that she could do. . .

"Go. . . ! Politoad, Corsola, Psyduck, Seadra, Dewgong, Gyarados. . . !" The group of Pokemon landed in the fresh water of the deck swimming pool and growled or cooed accordingly, "You guys hang out there and behave yourselves. I have to make a phone-call."

She walked past all of the other trainers and tourists in general and came upon the public vid-phone. After depositing the amount of money needed to access the operator and make a phone-call, she entered the information.

"Yes, hello. . . I'm trying to reach Professor Samual Oak of Pallet Town, Kanto Region?"

"Identity successfully confirmed; would you like me to patch you through?" Came a feminine voice from the receiver.

"That would be great; thanks." There was a click and the ringing started up again. This time a male voice answered the line and a familiar face caught her attention.

"Hello, Prof. Oak's lab in Pallet. This is Tracey Sketchit speaking. How may I help you?"

"Tracey? Hi; it's me, Misty." One of the first true smiles in a long while graced her face at the sight of her old friend.

"Misty, wow. Usually it's your sister that calls me up." They both laughed until the redhead found the good nature in herself to blush embarrassedly.

"Um, sorry, but I'm sorta in a hurry. You see, I'm on my way to Hoenn. I'm hoping to meet up with Ash and the others and, well, I can't get in contact with my sisters. . ." Misty stopped talking for a moment, hoping that he'd catch on by himself but there seemed to be no such luck, ". . .Well, Daisy is the only one that I can trust with my Pokemon, besides the Professor. . ."

"Oh, well, I'm not sure about him taking your Pokemon for awhile. Maybe you should talk to him about it. Do you want me to get him for you?" After she nodded, he rose from his seat and turned away, calling for his mentor.

"Why, hello Misty; what can I do for you?" The Prof. smiled warmly at the girl before him, "I hope that you're well - wait. . . What happened to your arm?" Peaked with curiosity, Tracey appeared onscreen once again.

"Oh, uh, this? It's nothing, really. . ."

"But, Misty, it's all red and swollen. . . Were you stung or bitten or something? It looks infected. . ." Tracey stepped in.

"Oh, well, thank you for that perfectly professional analysis, Mr. Obvious. . ." Misty muttered.

Tracey, not deterred by the girls' attitude, smiled sheepishly at her and stood back behind the Professor again.

"Well, are you sure that you should be traveling while you're injured like that--?"

"--I'm fine! Eck, I'm sorry but I needed to talk to you, Professor. . ." Misty stated pointedly, and Tracey exited the picture, getting the idea, ". . .Okay, um, I was just hoping. . . Well, I'm on my way to Hoenn but, uh, I can't locate my sisters because they're on one of their cruises. . . The thing is, I had to close down the gym and take all of the Pokemon with me. . ."

"Oh, my. . . You know that traveling with more than six Pokemon without a permit is illegal."

"Yea, that's why I was hoping that you'd be able to take them and keep them at the lab for awhile. . ."

"I'm sorry, Misty, but since you didn't begin training under my Beginners' Program. . . Minus Gym Leaders, all trainers must have a regional Pokemon Expert accept them and assign them a Pokedex in order for the system to work. . . But if you could swing on over here, I could easily allow you to take the Trainers' examination with some of the other beginners. . ."

"I – I can't. . . I'm already on the ferry and I can't risk – I mean. . . It's sort of impossible to turn back now. . . Please, Prof. Oak. . . I need you to do this for me; it's really important. . ."

"Misty, is there something that you're not telling me?" The look in the Professors eyes was suddenly fatherly, almost possessive enough to draw her in, but she stood strong.

". . .No; no, there's nothing. But if there was and I wasn't telling you now, you know that it would be for good reason, don't you? I mean, you know that I can be trusted. . ."

There was a sigh and then, "Of course. . . But if you're in trouble, just know that--"

"--I have people that I can depend on; I know. . . So can you help me?" She smiled and looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Give me a moment. . ." He turned away and began shuffling around, making small noises. Then he looked back at her and grinned, "Check your personal deposit box on the PC panel; you'll find a small gift. Call it a late birthday present." He winked at her, making her blink.

"Wait; how did you know. . . ?"

"Let's just say that word gets around, especially between certain trainers and Professor aids." A wink.

"--You don't mean Ash, do you?" She quirked an eyebrow disbelievingly.

"I won't say another thing without my attorney." He joked, but there was a beep coming from somewhere behind him, "Well, I'd love to converse awhile longer with you but, most unfortunately, that signifies that my research is still in need of being finished. Be sure to treat and re-bandage that arm, alright?"

"Yea, yea; don't worry about it, Prof. And thanks so much for. . . Whatever it is. . . That you sent me."

"I'm sure that you'll appreciate it. Goodbye, Misty." The line went dead.

Misty turned to an opposite wall and leant into the seat next to the PC, then began typing in her private password so that she could access her traveling things. A list popped up on-screen, listing certain items in chronological order from the oldest placement, forward.

The last one was labeled "Oak's Poke-Permit."

Misty almost sighed with relief at the sight of the article as she clicked on the 'withdrawal' option and it appeared in the deposit box. She took hold of it and stared as though the very existence of it had saved her life, and smiled softly at the knowledge in her hand.

She ran out to the deck, pulled out her Pokeballs, and called back her friends before running up a couple of flights of stairs into her bedroom so that she could change her clothes and bandages and get some sleep.

Once she reached Littleroot Town Harbor, she'd head to Professor Birch's laboratory and request May's address in Petalburg. From there, she'd ask the Hoenn girls' parents about their daughter's where-abouts and, hopefully, by doing that, she'd be able to locate her friends. And Ash.

And, with those thoughts of reacquaintance in mind, Misty found herself dropping off to sleep for the first time in two days.

OoO

Almost half a week later, the ferry was pulling into Littleroot Town Harbor. Misty, sighing almost as though thoroughly convinced that something pertaining to her fate was about to go awry, headed towards the mainland, her bag over her shoulder, six Pokeballs tied to her waist, and her wounds wrapped or concealed in any way that they could be.

It was only 7:50 a.m., the sun was just peaking over the horizon, so she hadn't bothered a lot with her appearance, even though she would soon be in the presence of one of the greatest scientific minds on Earth. Her hair was loose and lanky, hanging down past her neck. She'd thrown whatever clothes she could find on, resulting in a goldenrod tube-top overriding her old violet-red suspenders, which were hooked to the belt straps of her torn jeans-shorts. A/N: Yes, I do have a pic of what she'd look like in this outfit, for those who wouldn't mind seeing it… Email me or say so in your review (although I dunno if that'll work) if you're interested. The last addition to her ensemble were a pair of rubber-soled, leather high-top boots. There was a sports watch on one wrist, and a hair scrunchie on the other.

She couldn't help feeling awkward about being back in Hoenn. It was only her second time so she didn't necessarily know the terrain, and she'd pretty much taken the fastest route to wherever Ash had been last time, without making any pit stops.

Her wounds brought a lot of attention upon her, as well. She hadn't wrapped her arm in a sling, but she had used some gauze and an Ace elastic wrap material. To be frank, it just wasn't a subtle accessory.

She approached the large dome-topped building and marched up the first set of stone steps to the front doors. A few stray Pokemon wandered around the pathway, which she avoided by jumping a few paces at a time. There was also a couple of research assistants running around with clipboards. She could feel at least one pair of eyes on her back, watching her as she strived forward.

The doors swung upon and she entered the main lobby.

"Excuse me; Um, I need to see Prof. Birch; it's about one of his starter trainers from a couple of years ago."

One of the researchers turned to face her with a slightly suspicious air about him.

"Well, if you want information on them I'm afraid only he has access to the files. He's rather busy at the moment, but he should be coming down for coffee and breakfast in about forty-five minutes; I'll announce your presence if you think that you can wait." The man in the white lab coat removed his thick glasses and wiped them clean as he looked her over.

"Um. . . Yea, sure. I can go and get something to eat in the meantime." Misty stated embarrassedly, not comfortable with the visual search, "The name is Misty. . . Misty Waterflower. I'm the current official Gym Leader of Cerulean City, Kanto."

"Oh, yes; well, if that's true, he'll definitely make time for you." He sounded as if he doubted anything Misty had to say would turn out to be sincere.

She quirked an eyebrow, "And why do you think that it wouldn't be true? All I need is the address to a Hoenn starter trainer native to the city of Petalburg. Do you really think that I'd have to lie about my identity for that?"

The man, who seemed to jump a bit after she didn't prove to be intimidated by his profile, replaced his glasses and spoke in the strongest tone he could muster, "Look, Miss, if you don't have any type of photographic identification, we can't be positive of who you are or who you're not; and with organizations like Teams Aqua, Magma, and Rocket. . ." Misty almost visibly flinched but she held it in, ". . .out there, wreaking havoc. . ."

". . .Right; sorry. It's just that I'm from Kanto, I guess, so Aqua and Magma aren't even familiar to me. . . Um. . . Well, I don't have anything on me that will tell you who I am, like a Pokedex, but if you contact Professor Oak at his lab in Pallet Town, he can vouch for me as a reference."

"That should be simple enough to verify, then. . . If you can give us a half-an-hour to check that out and see to that fact, we can most likely get you an appointment soon after."

"Alright; thanks. I'm just going to head into town for something to eat. I haven't had anything decent in almost a week. I'll try and be back in about twenty minutes." And, with that, she headed back through the doors and stepped into the clear, crisp day.

It was true that the boating food was less than humane, especially with the constant scent of fish around. At this point, any person would be delusional enough to find pleasure in a cheeseburger and fries smothered in grease, no matter how early in the day it was (not that Misty was actually thinking of ordering that).

"Hello, Miss; may I take your order?"

"Oh, yea. . . Pancakes, please, and an orange juice. That's all." Misty handed the menu back to the woman standing in the apron before her, smiled, and then looked outside through the window next to the booth.

She had no idea how she was going to approach Ash, May, and the others about her situation. She hadn't even really thought about bringing it up. . . But now, somehow, she had this feeling that it wasn't going to be avoidable. It wasn't like they had any idea about what happened at the gym but, well, it was highly doubtful that Giovanni or the other organized executives would forget the fact that she was holding such evidence as a promoted piece of private weaponry. That being known, they definitely wouldn't be leaving her alone.

Anyway she looked at it led her to the conclusion that she'd have to tell her story. . . And that meant involving them in an obviously life-threatening situation.

The sound of the bell on the main entrance awoke her from her reverie and, due to natural curiosity, she faced the general direction of the counter where a group of hatted and sheltered beings were talking to a confused cashier.

They exchanged some words and then one of the figures lifted and extended their arm to show a small piece of paper to the person in front of them. Said person, in turn, nodded affirmatively and pointed towards the corner Misty sat in.

She blinked and let out a slight gasp before grabbing her red back and ducking under the table. She hadn't even been on the run for five days and Team Rocket was already on her tail? How could they have even guessed where she'd disappeared to, region-wise?

Her heart fluttering in a mad panic, Misty chose a Pokeball and called out a friend.

"Go. . . Seadra!" The Pokemon hit the floor and Misty made her next move, "Use Hydro Pump on the floor!" To create a mass confusion with the appearance of something like an overflowing sink and escape back to the lab in order to get the address for May's family was the spur-of-the-moment plan . . . What she wouldn't give for a flying Pokemon at the moment.

Seadra released a spurt of water onto the floor and Misty heard the sound of people start crying out about ruined shoes and the like almost immediately. More than five people reached their feet to retreat outside the restaurant, distracting the overly-clothed strangers formerly advancing on her booth.

She tore herself from underneath the table, slipping as she rose to her feet, withdrew her Seadrea into its Pokeball, and ran to the back section of the restaurant.

(The front was dedicated to non-smokers, the back to those pro of the habit, and the middle for the main counter, kitchen, and restrooms.)

Misty managed to crawl around the smokers section without much immediate suspicion since she passed as a confused or lost child to most of the consumers, and then she snuck out the entrance, passing as one of those trying to escape the water flow.

She quickly sat below the window to situate herself, as she knew that the Rockets would most-likely look through the entire restaurant before moving beyond its walls. She reached into her bad and pulled out a few things including a jacket with a hood to help her hide her face if needed, the Pokemon Handling Permit from Prof. Oak, and the rest of her Pokemon, to attach them to her belt. She arranged the permit in her jacket pocket and placed the jacket over her shoulders before reaching her feet again and dashing towards Prof. Birch's lab, her bag trailing at her side.

She rushed up the stairs and through the doors, taking a few deep breaths and trying not to look too windswept. She dusted herself off and looked around for the assistant she'd talked to before. A sudden tap on the shoulder made her jump into the air and snap around.

"—Oh, there you are, Miss. Um, is there something wrong?" It would've helped her case if she didn't keep darting her eyes towards the window to see if any of the obvious Rockets pursuing her had caught onto her trail.

"Um, no, not really. . . So, uh, did I get clearance from Prof. Oak?"

"Yes, Miss Waterflower, about that. . . Since I had no way of detailing your appearance to him, we agreed that the permit he gave to you on the ferry from Cerulean the other day would be proof enough. Could you show me that?"

Misty hurriedly shoved her hands into her pocket and drew out the laminated sheet of cardboard paper and shoved it under his nose. Though affronted, he gave a curt nod.

"Very well. . ." He went over to a personal secretaries desk and shared a short whispered conversation with the woman there before she picked up the phone in front of her and pressed a few buttons, then spoke into the receiver.

After she'd finished, she exchanged a few more statements with the assistant, who then walked back over to Misty.

"He'll be down shortly to see you—"

"—No! I-I have to see him now! I mean, haven't you made me wait long enough? I just need an address to a friends' place, after all; May Beech?"

"May Beech, daughter of Norman and Caroline? Why not just head to Petalburg Gym?" Came a new voice from the background, and the lab researcher stepped back and made way for a larger, heartier man with sharply cropped burgundy hair, "You must be Misty Waterflower."

"Yea; that's me. Erm, sorry about the whole shouting thing; eh heh. . ."

"It's alright to get frustrated, Miss Waterflower. Now, about May Beech's address. It's really not that hard to remember. It'll be that excessively large building in the center of Petalburg City with the huge sign plastered besides it, saying, 'Petalburg City Pokemon Gym'. No numbers or street involved." He laughed cheerily and Misty hastily joined in.

"Uh, yea, thanks. Er, well, I gotta go."

"Oh, wait--! I just got an idea!" Professor Birch lightly punched one of his fists into his other open hand and a newly justified smile flitted over his face, "Could you come with me for a few moments?"

"I-I guess that I could. . ." After another quick, fleeting glance through the window, she followed the tall authority up a small wooden staircase and into an office.

"Welcome to my domain, Misty. I have here. . ." And, with that statement started, the man picked up a large but travel-light object, ". . .A beginning trainers' acceptance package, containing the standard PokeNav. Max Beech, May's younger brother, has just had his tenth birthday and already picked his Pokemon. Unfortunately, when he was here to receive his parcel at the time, it hadn't yet arrived, and he was forced to go back home to Petalburg and wait for me to send it to him. He'd requested it earlier on so that he could study the make-shift, but now it's critical that I give it to him, as he's already ninety percent ready to start his journey."

"So you want me to hand the package over to him directly, is that it?" She quirked an eyebrow as she asked the next question that came to mind, "Why not just use FedEx?"

"Well, I could, but wouldn't this be just as easy? Plus, if you do me this favor, I'll give you one as well; as a token of my thanks."

"But, wait, I distinctly remember Max being the member of Ash's group to hold onto their PokeNav. . . If he already owns one, then why. . . ?"

"—Oh, well, about two months ago, Max went back home to study up for his beginners' exam. His dream is to take over the family gym so he hoped to learn some tactics and things last minute under his father's care. Before he left the group, he gave his PokeNav to his sister so that she, Ash, and Brock could travel without getting lost every hour of every day. . ." Prof. Birch chuckled.

". . .It sounds like you know Ash pretty well, at the very least. . . Anyway, about this PokeNav. . . I've never even had the mandatory PokeDex so I'm not sure I could make it work. . ."

"Oh; it's pretty basic. The newest model includes a Pokemon data system much like that of the PokeDex, a map of the Hoenn, Jhoto, and Kanto regions with coordinating precision. . ."

"What's that mean?"

"It means that you can be tracked down by your friends if both of you have your Nav's on you. You just need to give them the model's identification number and they can use the video portion of their system to find your exact position, depending on if you have yours on you. It tracks the Nav, not the person holding it, after all. It's pretty useful when traveling. The map itself marks every town, Poke Center, landmark. . . The list goes on. Other qualities that the PokeNav has are simple things such as an alarm clock, a cell phone, a radio. . . It's a replacement for the late PokeGear."

"Oh. . . Uh, right. Um, well, do you remember updating the version Max gave his sister? I mean, ever? It's just that, since, in the end, I wanna end up with them, using our PokeNav's to keep in contact would be the best plan."

"Yes, I did. Unfortunately, that version of the Nav is available at any retail shop and so I never took down its I.D. However, Max must have registered it, otherwise the update would have been denied in the first place. And for that, he'd need the number. Perhaps you could get it from him after you give him his beginners' package?"

"Actually, yes; fine. I have no other way of finding Ash's location. . ."

"Hmm, is there a reason why you're trying so hard to find Ash in particular?"

Misty blinked, sputtered, then blinked again.

"Wha-! No! What are you implying. . . ! That's it; I'm going. . ." Misty packed the two Nav's into her bag and then stomped away in a huff, "Don't worry, Professor! You can count on me. . . !"

After shuffling downstairs in what could have been perceived as a 'blind rage', she calmed down long enough to manage a long view of the outside lawn. A part of her seemed overwhelmingly terrified, almost paranoid.

"If I start twitching, I swear. . ." Misty ran outside and tumbled down the lawn, tearing into the wood beside the main road and along the hairline in toe to the edge of town, "Maybe I should put that gift to use. . ."

She backed away from the trail and sat down on a fallen log so that she could pull the Nav out of its box. It was almost portable, or just barely too large to fit snugly into May's fanny-pack, but it was thin enough to be clipped comfortably to a belt. It looked clearly adequate to work; the primary functions could be handled by pressing a single button. And the touch-screen enabled plenty of easy-access sub-menus.

"Simple enough. . ." And she pressed the mapping sequence.

An elaborate formation became planted onto the monitor, with a key/legend in the upper-right corner. The blue squares signified the many towns or cities in the region, the yellow 'X's pointed to the landmarks, the 'P's were the Poke Centers, and the large red blinking dot was Misty's own position. A smaller red dot was situated on the map, currently immobile back in Littleroot. Misty pressed it, confused, and a magnifying glass appeared on the town's icon, and it amplified so that the map changed from one projecting all of Hoenn to one centered on the rural area she'd just run from.

"Whoa. . . This is very. . ." Her comment was cut off by a group of new voices.

"The Taillow Watcher said that the last person to head out of town in this direction was a female around 5' 5'', slouching in a pink jacket. She avoided the main road, according to him, so we should spend a good amount of our time searching the land around here."

Misty's jaw dropped as she picked up her bag and stuffed the Nav with her other things. She moved to pick up the instruction manual and the box, but, next thing she knew, the bushes barely six feet away from her began shuffling.

"Ugh, God. . . No way. . . !" She tumbled slightly and dropped the box, and, too terrified to pick it up again, she took of further down the path and away from Littleroot, "What. . . should. . . I do. . .!" She gasped.

She had been speeding along the trails' side for almost ten minutes before she dashed behind a tree and caught her breath. She didn't know how to fend for herself at the moment. She could travel as fast as possible to the next town, or she could stop here and now to try and get Team Rocket off her back so that she wouldn't have to talk to Ash, May, and Brock about her problem in the middle or a Team Rocket raid. . .

She decided that moving was the best plan; there was no way she'd be able to take on more than a few members of her fathers' army at once, after all. . . And so, she continued on.

Misty didn't stop to sleep all afternoon, day, long. She walked through the night, only allowing herself three hours of napping rest up in the strongest and largest branches of a willow tree, setting her Nav-alarm to make positive that she was up before the sun.

After waking from her rest, she pulled an apple out of her bag, not having any time to risk a real meal, and took a chance to listen for the sounds of the Rockets searching through the woods. After she was clear that no one was around, she started eating and striding in large steps, continuing to Petalburg.

Three hours of sleep wasn't very sufficient per night, but it did get her into town and down the street to the gym. It was large, with a homing extension much like that of her own place in Cerulean. As was to be expected, the gym itself looked much more widely respected than hers.

She was about to walk inside when she changed her mind. She wasn't sure if it was anxiety or something else, but she soon found herself at the Pokemon Center.

"Why, hello Miss! Would you like me to heal your Pokemon?" Chirped the Nurse Joy standing behind the counter in the trainers' lobby.

"Um. . . You know what? That's probably the best idea at this time. . . Nothing's really wrong with them; they should just be a little tired and hungry, so do you think that you could just give 'em a quick check-up?" With a smile and a nod, Nurse Joy took Misty's Pokeballs and turned around to begin her work, but she frowned.

"I'm sorry, but you do realize that you're in possession of over the legal amount of Pokemon in your party, don't you?"

"Oh! Right; sorry. . . Here. . ." Misty flashed her permit which allowed the grin to return to the attendant's face and the redhead sighed with relief before another voice called out to her.

"Wow, Misty; is that you?" An excited voice. . .

"Um. . ." She looked behind her and found a boy with glasses, long black hair, and a handful of Pokeballs smiling widely at her, "Max, is that you?" She hoped to God that it was. . .

"Yeah! Wow, then I was right! I already knew that, though. . ." He stepped forward and placed the Pokeballs on the counter for Nurse Joy to attend to.

"Hey, wait. . . Those can't be yours. Prof. Birch said that you hadn't started your journey yet. . ."

"Oh, you've met Prof. Birch? No; those belong to my father. Since I'm starting my journey soon, he trusts me to handle his Pokemon. . . Er, at least when I'm just taking them to Nurse Joy. So, what are you doing here? I mean, it's not like Ash is in town. . . But if you talked to the Prof., you should know that."

". . .Oh, uh, I do," Misty laughed, slightly embarrassed. She was so tired at this point that she'd almost fallen asleep standing there, "Actually, I'm here to give you. . ." She pulled out her bag and began rummaging inside before pulling out the Nav, unopened, and handing it to him, ". . .this. . . And I wanted to ask you—"

"Oh, wow! Thanks Misty! I've been waiting almost a month for this! Now I can prepare for my journey and take off in a couple of days!" After hopping up and down a few times, he finally remembered that other people were in the room, "Um. . . Heh, heh.. . . So, you wanted something else. . . ?"

"Yea; Prof. Birch told me that you gave your sister your old PokeNav before coming back home. . . I wanted to know if you still had the I.D. so that I could track May, Ash, and Brock down?"

"You have a PokeNav, too? Awesome! Anyway, I have it but only at home because I couldn't remember the entire number alone. But if you came back to the gym with me, I could. . ." He left the sentence unfinished, since they both knew what he was going to say.

"Yea; sure. I have awhile, I guess. . . Besides, I need a rest. . ." She smiled at him.

"You do look a little tired. . ." He assessed as they exited the Center and headed, once again, towards the midst of town.

"Only a little? Wow; I must be getting better at disguising my issues. . ."

"Huh?"

"Nothing!" She managed a laugh before they walked through the sliding door entrance to the gym, and into the lounging area, where Max's parents were relaxing, watching some television.

"Hi mom, dad; guess what came today? It's my new, pre-registered PokeNav! I can start my journey now!" There was an exchange of laughter, cheers, and hugs before the elder auburn-haired woman turned to the redhead.

"And who are you, may I ask?"

"I. . . I'm Misty Waterflower, a friend of May and Max's. I traveled with Ash Ketchum for a few years before he introduced me to your kids. . ."

"Oh, yes! I remember you now!" Norman got up from the couch with a smile and proceeded to shake the girl's hand.

Confused, Misty replied, ". . .You. . . do?" She was pretty sure that they'd never met before.

"Um, I told both of my parents about that time you helped Togepi find its place in the Paradise so they kinda already know who you are. . ." Max blushed sheepishly and scratched the back of his head in nervousness.

"Oh, okay. . . I guess that I'm relieved. That's all." Misty had almost no trouble imagining the entire Beech family suddenly ripping off their visible clothes and revealing themselves as Team Rocket executives. . . But that was mostly because of her exhaustion, and the fact that she felt she was currently losing her mind.

"Well, since you're here, why not stay for lunch? I can whip up something simple if you're in a rush. . ." Caroline smiled warmly at her and started towards the kitchen.

"Oh, I don't know about that. You see, it's just that I really have—"

"—Awe, please, Misty! Besides, I have a favor I'd like to ask you."

What was with all of these favors people thought she'd be so pleased to do for them?

Max took her by the arm and led her to the patio out back so that they could talk alone.

"So, what was it that you needed from me, Max?" Misty leant back into a chair and breathed deeply as a small gust of wind blew across her face.

"Oh, um. . ." He seemed suddenly bashful again, "It-it wasn't much, really. . . I was just hoping that you could stay here for the next couple of days."

"Well, it's not exactly a good idea for me to be. . ."

"It's just that, well, my birthday was about a month ago and now I've got my Pokemon partner and my official Nav so that I can start my journey. . . But. . . I don't want to go on my own. . ."

"Oh. . ." She knew where this was going, she was sure. . .

"I think that I'd feel a little more comfortable if I had another person with me, a friend, just for a little while."

"But, you see, I really wanted to catch up with Ash. I don't have time to spend doing anything else. It's important that I get to him. If I wait here, who knows how long it'll be by the time I catch up to him again. . . ?" She sighed, turning away from the younger boy, "That's okay, isn't it?"

"Yea, actually it is. . ." A grin lit up Max's face again as a new idea came to mind, "How about I go with you to find the others? I mean, that gives us a couple of days so that I'm used to life on the road, and I'd like to talk with May anyways." They walked back inside and up the staircase to where the bedrooms were, walked through a door, and Max took a moment to root through the top drawer of his desk and pull out a notebook. He then opened the box containing his PokeNav and sat down, ushering Misty over.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm downloading May's Nav I.D. into my cell phone memory so that we can call her and the others. You see, they were here about a week ago, so if we called them now and told them to wait up for us, then we might be able to catch them in time for them to sit in at the next town over. I'll give you the I.D., too. And then we can give them ours."

"Oh. . . Wait. . . ! I don't want—" Misty was interrupted as Max finished downloading the information on his former Nav, passed the info to Misty, then told her how to install it herself. Next, he pressed the touch-screen and the speed dial began its designated action. . .

. . .About twenty-five miles away, May's PokeNav let out a repetitive beeping noise, causing the group consisting of her, Ash, and Brock, to stop in the middle of their mid-day trecking.

"Oh, look, a phone-call. . . Hmm, that's an unfamiliar number. . ." May pressed the 'receive call' notice and gave a small shriek of surprise, "Hey, guys! It's Max and. . . Misty?"

"What?" Was the unanimous reply from the two boys as they rushed over to see for themselves.

"Misty, wow! What are you doing there with Max? Are you at my house?" May asked.

"Yea, actually. And I need to talk to you about—" She was interrupted by the younger kid beside her.

"—Our house, you mean?" He took a moment to stick his tongue out at his older sister, "Anyway, guess what? I got my PokeNav so I get to start my journey in a few days, and—"

Now he was interrupted by Ash. . .

"—Hey, Misty!" He shoved May's head out of the way, "Wow, I didn't think we'd get to see each other again before I was finished in the Hoenn League--!"

. . .Who was interrupted by May. . .

"—Ash. . . ! Back away from my Nav before I set my Blaiziken on you--!"

. . .Who was interrupted by Brock. . .

"Will you two stop behaving like children!"

. . .Who was interrupted by. . .

"Lunchtime! Oh. . ." A new voice on Max and Misty's side caught everyone's attention, ". . .Max, who are you talking to? Is that your sister? May, how are you doing, honey?" Caroline's face came into view, pushing Max and Misty's out of the way.

"Mom!" Max whined.

"Hi, mom!" May exclaimed with a load of enthusiasm and a smile.

"Mrs. Beech, did I hear you say something about lunch?" Ash looked ready to jump through the screen, he was so eager.

"Yea, mom - lunch. We'll be down in a second!" Max tore his mom away from the Nav and helped her back into the hallway.

"Okay, May-dear. I'll talk to you some other time; take care of yourself!" Were her last words.

". . .Anyway, May; since I got my Pokemon and my Nav, I was thinking. . . Misty's going to meet up with you ASAP and I was going to accompany her. Do you think you guys could wait up for us in the next town?"

"Max, we can't just stop our journey for you!" May scolded, "Besides, you told me that you were going to travel alone. What's the matter? Getting cold feet at the last minute?" She taunted her little brother.

"No--!" Max stated defiantly, but Misty stopped him from continuing.

"Um, May, why don't you add Max's I.D. number to your memory bank and we'll call you later?" Misty asked, "Max and I have to talk, and I'm sure that your mom is wondering why we're not downstairs yet." Her gaze, slightly cold, turned to Max, who knew better than to argue against her, "See ya." And she pressed the 'end call' icon on the screen before they could say anything else.

"What do we have to talk about?" Max had the courage to ask.

"About how you pretty much put words into my mouth. I didn't agree to travel with you to find May, Ash, and Brock. Why you told them that _we'd_ meet up with them, I don't understand." She crossed her arms and scoffed, looking like a disappointed parent, "To be quite honest, I don't think that your coming with me is a good idea at all. I'm sorry, but I have my reasons for this belief."

"Like what?" Max looked half-skeptical and half-curious at her speech.

"W-well, um. . ." She couldn't tell him the true reason so. . . "Well, because; think about it! How can you be expected to become a top trainer when you don't learn those life-lessons on your own, instead counting on people like me or Brock to do that for you, right from the beginning? I mean, even Ash started his journey on his own, and with a Pikachu that wouldn't listen to him."

"But didn't you meet him on his first day?"

Ignoring the oddity of who could have possibly relayed to him that information, Misty picked up the conversation yet again, "Yea, but that's only because he almost drowned in the river outside of Pallet Town and I just happened to be there to pull him out. . ."

An extended silence greeted this reply before Max opened his door and stepped out into the hallway.

"Why is it that you wanted me to start my journey alone, again?"

"Er. . ." On the way down to the dining room, Misty threw more hopeful explanations at him, praying that she'd be able to quell his desire to travel with her to find Ash and May. There wasn't much she could do if he was hoping to meet with his sister, but her situation was already murderously dangerous and there was no way she could risk getting a ten year old boy with no training experience involved.

"C'mon Misty. It's just going to be for three or four days, so what's the big deal? Is it cause you don't like me? Or is there something else going on here?"

"What're you talking about, kids?" Caroline raised an eyebrow upon their entrance.

"Nothing, really. . ."

"Well, Max, your mother's going to fix up some food and I'm going to take you shopping tomorrow for supplies. Then you'll be able to leave soon after. How's that go for a plan?" Norman smiled at his son, "After lunch, I have to head to go to gym and I'll be there until around seven p.m. If you two want to come watch me battle. . ." At this point, his gaze swung over to Misty, ". . .That's fine with the both of us."

"Well, we still need to call May back; so maybe later." Misty stated, looking pointedly at Max, who pouted, "Um, but thanks for the offer. And the food's delicious, Mrs. Beech."

"Thank you, Misty. You know, you look quite disheveled, exhausted. . . Have you not been able to sleep on the road?"

"Oh, uh, yea. . . Well, I've spent almost a year watching the Cerulean Gym for my sisters and it was sort of a last minute thing to pack up and travel here to meet up with Ash. . . I guess I just have to get used to sleeping on the ground again."

"I understand now. . . Do you know your gym leading status?" Norman asked, hoping to keep up a conversation.

"Well. . . I've never really thought much about it, but. . ."

"How about I add some pride to your name? The League database keeps tabs on every gym leaders monthly wins and losses. According to that database, the leader of your gym two years ago had an average of eleven wins and seventeen losses a month. . . In the last year, while you've been the leader, that average has altered to twenty-one wins and seven losses."

"Wow; who knew that it was so easy to access that type of information?" Misty laughed weakly in response, hoping that her face hadn't turned too scarlet at the obvious praise.

"The system was recreated almost five years ago to include general and semi-personal knowledge of all gym leaders or potential gym leaders. That would include, on most circumstances, your wife or husband, parents under age sixty-five, and siblings or children fourteen years or older. Since you're the current sole leader in Cerulean, there would be a main page featuring a photograph, your personal status, and Pokemon choice – things like that. Then, and this is only open to League officials or other gym leaders or the like, by inserting a private code, they can access more personal things. Friends, family, absence excuses and replacement, if any—"

"—Wait. W-what was that last one. . . ?" Her heart began to race as though a gun had gone off nearby, shocking her beyond anything.

"Well, say you left your occupation as gym leader on extended leave to earn some experience. Before closing down the gym, you might want to place an explanation with the League so that trainers' hoping for your badge know not to bother at the time. Or, if you still want to leave your gym open, you have to leave your place up to a substitute leader."

"And, if you had this code. . . You'd be able to access the leaders where-abouts?" Something was wandering through her head at the moment. What was the likelihood that her sisters had gone to that database and inserted that she, as the rightful gym trainer, would be in the Hoenn region until further notice. . . ?

__

"When a new Rocket member is initiated, he or she must swear to serve the leader Giovanni_ in any way that they can. . ."_

"The leader Giovanni. . ." Misty hadn't even thought much of the name while in the situation that time, but now. . . Something about it was awfully familiar.

"Hmm; what was that?" Caroline got up from her seat to start on the dishes while Norman continued their conversation.

"Oh, I was just thinking of something. Anyway, Max and I are finished eating and we need to get back to talking about. . . Our issue." Misty, as though she were Max's older sister, proceeded to yank him from his chair, "Thanks for lunch!"

". . .Okay, now what?" Max looked pretty exasperated by the time they reached his room again.

"Look, I know that you really want to start your journey with a friend and I understand why, but you've got to see that. . . I wouldn't say 'no' if I didn't have a very good reason for it. Just because I won't tell you what it is, doesn't mean that it's not there."

"You can't even give me a hint?" Just like a child, Max continued with his persistence.

"Let's leave it at. . . By doing this, there's a good chance that I'm saving your life." Misty sighed as the boy's eyes widened, "Is that good enough for you?"

Ignoring the last statement, he replied, "You're kidding. . . Right?"

"Yes, Max. . ." In exasperation, ". . .That's exactly how I like to push things along, making up stories about death threats and the like."

"Um, alright. Sorry. . . So, I don't understand why we can't travel together for a few days. I just don't see what could go wrong in so little time—"

"—Hey, I know that this is about how you don't want to start out on this huge path of life alone, but you're going to make plenty of new friends, and you'll have your Pokemon partners, and if you need to talk to Prof. Birch, your parents, May, Ash, or me, we're just a phone-call away. I mean, really, May started out alone, didn't she? And you wouldn't want her to laugh it up at you for the next six months, would you?"

". . .No. . ." He looked thoroughly put out at this reality, "You're right. . ."

"Of course; I'm doing this for your own good, though. You do know that, right?"

"Sure. Still, you're obviously tired. . . Why don't you spend the night here so that you can wake up tomorrow, fresh? After all, if things are as bad for you as you say they are right now, then I'm sure that it'd be safer to stay here with my family then outside in the woods. We can get some supplies to help you out with. . . Whatever it is that's going on. My parents won't mind if you take up May's room for tonight. Come to think of it, she probably wouldn't care either, as long as I don't follow you inside. . ." His voice lowered to a whisper, ". . .She's afraid that I might actually wanna touch her stuff. . ." He rolled his eyes.

"I-I don't know if I should. . ."

"I told you, my parents—"

"—No, that's not the problem. . . It's," Misty was suddenly overcome with a yawn, ". . .It's no reason to turn down a free bed, I suppose. But we'd better call up Ash, May, and Brock and tell them to expect me. . . We did sort of cut them off before we finished detailing where to meet up."

"We?" Max couldn't help the sarcasm in his response, "Anyway, right. So. . . Back to my room, then?"

After nodding at one another, they headed back to the youngest Beech's bedroom where the two PokeNav's and Misty's bag were still sitting. They sat in front of Max's just in time for a call to come in. The caller I.D. read 'Prof. Birch'.

"Oh, guess I'd better get this. . ." The looked almost as though he was going to wet himself from excitement, "Hey-lo, Prof.!" He yelled after pressing the 'receive call' button.

"Well, if it isn't Max Beech? Hah hah. . . I was hoping that Misty'd gotten that PokeNav to you by now. . . Have you gotten through looking at all of this versions' modifications?"

"Oh, yea, and it's really a technological masterpiece!" Misty quirked an eyebrow, acknowledging Max's brainy personality for the first time.

"As is any artifact, if worked on overtime."

"Wait; when did you get a chance to look at all of the components?" Misty asked Max, slightly confused. They'd only been around the Nav for a total of twenty minutes, after all, and more than half of that, they'd spent absorbed in the phone-call with May.

"When we were talking to my sister." He stated proudly. Misty rethought her previous judgement. Okay; so _she_ had been absorbed in the call. . .

"You're very—"

"—Oh, Misty, you're still there? You and Max must be getting along quite well; you were so impatient to get a move on while you were talking with me before. Suddenly Ash isn't a top priority?"

"Eh. . ." Misty tried to hold back a blush, not looking either of the male companions in the eye, "Ash is never a top priority for me. . ." She lied.

"Anyway, Prof. Birch, did you need anything?" Max asked.

"Oh, yes, well, this. . ." The view switched to one that showed a different style of Pokeball, ". . .Is a Starter Ball. As you well know, the Professor of each region is supposed to give beginning trainers one of the three Pokemon of that region – be it grass, fire, or water type. Those Pokemon are referred to as the Starter Pokemon. Anyway, this Pokeball was made specifically to hold those Pokemon and help strengthen the relationship with their trainers. But that's not all. . . A surprise modification of your Nav's is that the Pokemon you place in this Ball can automatically be transferred to me, or to the Pokemon Center, or to Bill's PC Box. Unfortunately, in order to do something as complex as transfer Pokemon from your place on the road, the Nav memory has to be able to hold DNA from all Pokemon. . . This is a feat that we have yet to successfully complete. We've only been able to fit about four percent of the 350+ Pokemon identified, so the project's been pretty much put on hold while researchers find a way to create a portable DNA rack for the 336+ Pokemon not able to fit in the system. In any case, I wanted to let both of you know that you can send me a list of the fourteen Pokemon DNA samples you'd like installed into your Nav. I can upload the files from any Pokemon Center, or from here directly."

"But what about our individual Pokemon's code? Isn't, say, my Politoad's pattern distinguished against other Politoads?" Misty asked.

"Fortunately, no. The DNA analysis program works with one branded sample from a tagged specimen of each currently known Pokemon. It's then run against the trainer / Nav I.D. in order to verify the transfer. It may sound complicated, but it's really quite simple."

"Simple? Well, I'll take your word for it. . ." The Cerulean girl mumbled.

"Oh, yes, one more thing. I'm going to need both of your Nav I.D.'s so that I can temporarily uplink them to our visual aids online camera. We need pictures of every trainer for their profiles."

"Um. . . Okay. . ."

The two adolescents handed over their I.D.'s and waited while the Professor set up the biographical online program. Suddenly, their Nav's beeped.

"Now, all you both have to do is hold your Nav's at arms' length with the screen facing you, smile, and wait for the flash."

The two followed the directions precisely and the photographs appeared on the monitor, minimizing into the top right corner.

"Yes, that's good enough for now. Also, while we're still in the general area of the subject, Max, could I bother you long enough to get the number on the Nax you gave to May?"

"Sure, Prof., here. . ." He read off the number to the scientist, who took on a closing to the conversation.

"Anyway, Misty, how about tomorrow you head to the Pokemon Center so that we can install the Pokemon DNA into your memory? We'll get in Max's starter Pokemon as well; this way you both can head off on your journeys with the best of today's tech in your bags!"

"We'll be pretty busy and everything, but I think we can make it." Max acted like a professional executive in his joke about a full schedule, "Anyway, Misty and I have to talk to May before it's too late, so we should go."

"Right; my business is accounted for, in any case. I guess that I'll talk to you both some other time." The two kids exchanged good-bye's with the Prof. and then hung up.

"Let's hurry up with that call to May and Ash, okay? Tomorrow's going to be a pretty crazy day and it's getting a bit late." The two of them dialed the number from earlier and May's impatient face stared up at them again almost instantly.

"Finally! We've been waiting for almost two hours!" May sighed angrily at the sheepish expressions on Misty and Max's faces, "So, back to the unlikelihood that we're going to stop in the middle of our journey just so that you can catch up to us and tag along as an amateur."

"Hey, I can hardly imagine that you'd be any more experienced than I would just after starting! I mean, at least I would know my Pokemon by name, and their techniques!"

"Yea, well, at least I—"

"—You two have been talking for ten seconds and already, you're fighting?" Brock invaded the conversation at this point, his face intruding upon May's.

"Sorry. . ." The two sighed.

"Anyway," Brock continued, "if we're going to stop in the middle of our journey so that you two can meet up with us, we need to know how soon you can be here."

"Hey," Ash shouted, "C'mon, Brock! I mean, I just don't wanna put my journey on hold! Why do you need to come join up with us, anyway?" His face now consumed the monitor.

"Ash, you're such a dense idiot! Don't act like you don't want me there!" Misty's eyes became glued against the Nav screen, "Besides, there's been a change in plans. Instead of both of us catching up with you three, I'm going to rush out there while Max starts his journey at his own pace."

"Wait; so only you're going to start traveling with us?" May exclaimed, and her face lit up with excitement, "Wow, Misty! I can't wait for you to get here!"

"Hey, wait; how come you're acting so happy-go-lucky now that you know I'm not coming?" Max whined.

"Because you're you and I had enough of you're tagging along the first eleven years of my life." May stuck her tongue out at him.

"Ouch," Ash muttered, "Who knew May and Max took their sibling rivalry so seriously. . . ?"

"Well, anyway, it's almost sundown here and I want to start on dinner; so when can we look forward to your arrival?" Brock asked, before the conversation could get anymore frivolous.

"Well, I'm actually really exhausted today so I was going to hit it up here at the Petalburg Gym for the night and then head out tomorrow afternoon, after picking up some supplies and my Pokemon from Nurse Joy."

"Nurse Joy. . ." She could see Brock start to drool in the background before May pinched his cheek in frustration. She pulled him away from the Nav as his mutterings turned to Officer Jenny. Max took this moment to tell Misty that he was going to finalize her plans for the night with his parents. For a moment, it was just her and Ash. . .

He didn't seem to have anything to say at first, but then, ". . .Can't wait to see you. . ." He didn't seem aware of his words at the time he spoke them.

". . .W-what was that you said?"

"Oh, uh, May – she can't wait to see you. She's been complaining about the lack of female companionship almost as much as you used to. She's really looking forward to seeing you again."

"—But you're not. . . ?" Was her despondent reply.

He didn't have time to answer before May returned to his side and Max's pounding feet in the background announced his re-arrival.

"So, anyway Misty, what do you say to a nice shopping trip when you get here?" May asked, looking excited at the thought of it already.

"Yea; sure. That sounds good," Misty gave the girl an appreciative glance, "It's something to look forward to, at least."

"Hey, Misty. Mom thought it would be a good idea to get cleaned up and ready for bed early since, tomorrow, we're going to be spending the day getting potions and antidotes and stuff." May said from behind.

"So, are you staying in my room, then?" May asked.

"I guess so. To tell you the truth, and I hope it's okay, I'd prefer to stay in a place filled with personality, rather than a simple undecorated guest room. . . It's kinda like a lifelong familiar scent – it always manages to give you some comfort."

"Yea, I understand. Brock's secret stew always reminds me of my mom's cooking," Ash scratched the back of his head in embarrassment at his intrusion to the discussion.

"Well, I'm okay with you staying there. Just keep Max out. A girl needs her privacy, right?"

"I know that all too well. . ." Misty said, eyeing Ash, who stepped back a bit and began whistling in feigned ignorance, "Anyway, I guess we'd better go. I have a new PokeNav so, with the I.D. Max gave me—"

"Wait, how did you get a PokeNav? I mean, Brock and I never got one. . ." Ash moaned enviously.

"It was a gift for delivering Max's Nav to him. It was late being manufactured so he didn't have a chance to get it while he was in Littleroot to choose his Starter Pokemon. But I ended up visiting Prof. Birch to see if he knew where you were. He told me that Max knew the I.D., if not your location, and offered me my own Nav if I got Max's to him."

There was silence except for Ash's snoring. With an agitated glance in his direction, May poked him painfully in the shoulder, causing him to snort and snap himself awake.

"If you're going to ask a question, at least pay attention when you're given an answer," May muttered to him, "Okay, well, anyway; you enjoy yourself, Misty. I've got a stereo and, well, maybe you'll like my choice in music." The Beech girl seemed a little embarrassed; as though she were afraid that the older one was going to judge her.

"I know I will; I mean, after only six hours sleep in the past three days, a peaceful night on a rock would do, even with all of the bug Pokemon. . ." Misty shuddered at the thought.

"Well, I know that you both have a big day tomorrow so let's just end it here. Besides, I still have to untie Brock from that oak tree so that he can focus on making dinner. See you, Misty." May winked good-naturedly at her and left the view of the screen.

"You have our Nav I.D. number; I guess that there's no problem in waiting until you get here to give us yours, right? So, uh—"

"—Yea; bye, Ash. I'll see you in a couple of days." Misty and Max managed to wave before the line was disconnected.

There was a quick knock on the door and Caroline entered.

"I've set the tub with some hot water and therma-care beads since you look so roughed up, Misty." She said kindly to them.

"Oh, um, thank you, Mrs. Beech."

"Also, do you have any pajama's?"

"Well, I did. . . But my clothes are all pretty much dirty at this point. I haven't really had a chance to relax since I left Cerulean City."

"That's alright. Let's see. . . Unfortunately, you're too lengthy to fit into any of May's things, but you're about my height, give or take an inch. I'll just lend you something of mine. Oh, and you can put your laundry in the wash so that it's fresh for when you meet up with Ash." She held out her hand for Misty's bad, which the young girl gave her, "I've set out a couple of towels on the sink for you, as well. If you need more, there's a linen closet just outside the bathroom."

"Thanks so much." Misty gave a half-bow in respect and headed for the bath.

OoO

Unfortunately, though the bath water was hot and comfortingly clear, and though May's bed was soft and warm, she couldn't get that night's worth of sleep that she'd hoped for. Perhaps it was just insomnia, the fact that she would see Ash again soon, or maybe it was just that discomforting afterthought of the legions upon legions of Rocket members who wanted her head on a silver platter, and the secret that she was keeping.

But even those 'wonderful' effects didn't seem to be it. Every time Misty closed her eyes and drew near sleep, her half-dreams were of a young man and woman in a dark room, him bearing down upon her and forcing her below him. She wouldn't resist him as he tore through her so violently, barely shrieked when the blood ran between her legs, and, upon reaching her feet, never allowed herself to limp.

Halfway through the constantly reoccurring mess, the view Misty had started in changed so that it looked as though she were approaching them from a space beyond the walls. The man, now able to be seen, was totally unrecognizable to her, but Misty gave a disgusted scowl in his direction in any case. It was then that her focus would turn to the woman. . .

. . .And she'd wake up with her injured arm burning (almost as a response), covered in perspiration and somehow more exhausted than she'd been the night before, even though she managed about six hours of sleep.

Wonderingly, Misty couldn't help but question the life she was living. Just now, while asleep, she couldn't bear to look into the face of her mother even though, admittedly, she ached for a chance to see some form of her after so long. But, remembering the happenings from the Cerulean City Gym, she couldn't help imagining her own face being glued to that body that was being penetrated so horribly.

And then there was her mother. How could she think her now-teenage daughter so able to deal with such a truth as what she was given?

But Misty couldn't dwell on these thoughts for long. She knew the journey ahead of her and, inevitably, ahead of Ash, Brock, and May, would probably be a long and terrifying one so, wishing for a finally dreamless sleep, the young redhead let her head flop back against the pillows and felt herself falling away.

Morning came somehow furiously to her, the sun so bright that it nearly blinded her when first she opened her eyes. She snapped them shut in a rush, laughing bitterly at the ironic turn the weather had taken in comparison to her mood.

She groaned and rose from her sheets, clutching at her nightclothes as though they were hands grabbing at her in every part they could reach. But it was just her imagination that someone had been clawing at her.

"Oh, Misty; Max tried to wake up ten minutes ago but you seemed intent on sleeping so he left you alone." Caroline stated with a small smile, but it soon turned to a frown, "Is everything alright? You look almost mortified."

Misty shook her head, intent on not getting anymore people than necessary involved with her anxieties, "No, ma'am, it must have just been a nightmare. . ." She was going to add something about how often she got them anymore, but decided against it.

Mrs. Beech seemed to be analyzing her again as she pulled something from behind her back and handed it to Misty, who had risen from the bed, absentmindedly flattening out the sheets, "Here you go; it's your bag, filled with freshly-cleaned and ironed clothes and some snacks for the road; I've heard about your rush to catch up with May and Ash." She let her smile drop only so much as to be noticeable as Misty thanked her and took the bag, removing the clothes she'd be wearing that day, "Also. . . I found this among your things."

Misty looked around slowly, experiencing something along the lines of terror as Caroline held out the small box, the only thing her mother had left behind, filled with the final remnants of her life.

". . .Oh; that. . . ? It's – it's nothing! It's. . ."

"I know exactly what it is, Misty. You see, I knew that I recognized something in you; I remembered you from somewhere." Misty attempted to speak but ended up leaving her mouth wide open, "I know a memory chest when I see one. . ." She grinned again, but it was rather miserable looking, "Who is it for. . . ?"

The words the woman spoke finally registering in Misty's mind, she replied, "My – my mother," she said, holding out a hand for Mrs. Beech to give it back, "So you didn't look at--?" She asked almost too quickly.

"I'd never allow myself to look at something so personal. I just stop them from being laundered." There was a small ring of laughter between the two of them, no matter how apprehensive it sounded, before they turned sober, the elder woman drawing slightly closer, looking modest, "I'm sorry about the question. Even as I get older, I still find time to act curious around those who are like me."

"You mean. . . ? Who? I mean, uh, you lost someone special when you were young?"

Caroline nodded, "I did. My younger brother – my family and I were at the Safari Watch, behind the fence, when something upset a herd of Rapidash, and they galloped towards the spectators, near where we were at. Most people got away, but. . . My arm was completely crushed and. . . And he didn't make it. Trampled entirely. This synthetic," she halted for a moment, allowing the arm to grope at the sunlight from the window, "It looks truly human, but. . . it's really all I have to remind me of that day. I don't talk to my husband about it, though he understands. I just can't seem to be comfortable around him, speaking of something so. . . Horrible. May and Max don't even know about their uncle, even though Max was named after him."

Misty was slightly surprised to feel a couple of tears fall down her cheeks, unable to believe that, after everything, she could still manage to cry, to sympathize, for someone else.

"I'm. . . I am so sorry. I can't even begin to talk about what happened to my mom. . . Not now. . ."

"Please listen to me; events that seem to be certain tragedies often hold hidden gifts, even if it takes years upon years to find out what those are. After my brother. . . Went, my parents were so overcome with grief that they threw every mention of him away. Even if I could replace this arm, or if it could have been saved back then, therefore, with an original flesh version, I wouldn't agree to it because it's the only thing that reminds me of him – the only thing that can."

". . .Oh. . ."

"So don't feel burdened with what's left of your loved ones after they're gone. That's my advice to you. You hold the only few things that tie your mother to this world."

OoOoO

****

Notes – I'm, like, crying now. . . I've been typing this chapter up for. . . I think. . . Four hours straight. Ugh; and it's longer than the prologue! I'm so. . . Dead right now. I feel so stupid for wasting this whole chapter with things like this, but I felt that it had to happen. Not only did Misty need to learn of how to find Ash, but I felt that bidding her knowledge of tragedies of other characters, such as Caroline, and the obviousness of hers and Ash's relationship, and the friendship growing between her and May, would help her understand later on, just how grateful she should be for what she's going to have to give up. Er. . . Not that I'm going to tell you all exactly what's going to happen. Only my dearest of pals get that top-secret information. Therefore, if you wish to know, you should befriend Chibi. Lol. Anyway, yea. . . Moving on.

I'd like to thank all of those who, even through the warnings and ratings of this fic, chose to review the prologue. I did tell you that it'd be that bad, even if this chapter was a bit of a softie, compared to the last, and the next (hint, hint). So, thanks to you all, and I hope that my grammatical errors don't kill your interest. Please don't let them. Imagine how I must feel having to scroll down this 20-something page chapter just to check for typos and things. Unless they're keeping you from understanding a statement made, then you shouldn't let them get to you.

So, I guess that's all. Er. . . Please review, seeing as I've been sitting here getting sores from working so hard. I hope that, though Chapter One was boring beyond belief, you'll take my word for it that Chapter Two will be much better. The first paragraph in itself will probably be more interesting than this whole part. So, like I said, review, and expect Chapter Two in about. . . Say. . . A month. Lol. I haven't even finished it in my notebook, unlike the Prologue and Chapter One, so it's going to take a bit longer, even if I know the main plot. . .

****

Spoilers for Chapter Two – Misty gets run down by Team Rocket and is nearly killed, when, quite suddenly, the men trying to end her life are told by Giovanni to take her captive so that the leader can meet his daughter for the first time in their lives. Nearly dead, Misty can't escape them and is almost taken when she is saved by a certain few people, one of who later feels that she's not worth trusting. Can this person be convinced of different? Or will Misty be left to fend for herself? And when will Team Rocket try another attempt at kidnapping her?

OoO – Chibi - OoO


	3. Chapter Two

**Author** – Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer** – I don't own Pokemon or any of its characters; but the plot is mine, mine, mine! And it was influenced by shows such as CSI, Law and Order, and Cold Case. There are more, but I think I'll just stop here.

**Summary** – The only witness to the homicide of Rose Williams, the daughter Aurora, eight years old, was relinquished the evidence left behind and told to hide herself away for her own safety. Yet, years later, she was forced to reacquaint herself with her mothers' murderer with only a few friends at her side. Will they survive? Completely AAMR.

OoOoO

**Title** – Illicit Saints

Chapter Two 

OoO

**Characters / Ages**

Misty / 17

Ash / 16

Brock / 20

May / 13

OoOoO

It was raining again. The thunder and lightning crashed and crackled around her as her shoes squelched into the softening mud. Her hands were out in front of her holding onto the PokeNav, which was currently scanning the area for May's Nav I.D. She knew they were around here somewhere. May had told her that. . .

. . .Her thoughts were cut short as she tripped over some anonymous bramble and she fell to the ground, sliding a bit and the mud getting all over her clothes. One of her Pokeballs rolled about five feet away and opened up to reveal her Psyduck, clutching its head glancing up at the ominous skies.

"Psy-ye-ye?" He asked, starting towards Misty, who was attempting to shake off the winded slight of pain she was feeling to reach her feet. Another stroke of thunder and her eyes snapped open, and she twisted her neck so that she was facing her Pokemon.

"Psyduck, go down the road and you'll find a Pokemon Center. . . Get help from someone?"

"Oh, so the little brat is bleeding and hurt?" Came a snide murmur from the trees. There was a large amount of rustling from beyond the pathway.

"Go!" She shouted and Psyduck, in mid-panic, took off down the road. Then she looked down at herself, quickly sweeping her body for injuries. Her Raticate bite, which had formerly been so close to healing, had been forcibly broken open by the fall.

"Bondt, should we stop the Pokemon before it reaches the Center?" Said a dull, emotionless female voice from a body shrouded in darkness, holding something that looked oddly like a Pokeball.

"Yes, actually. The Center should be quiet now, being as late as it is, so act with stealth; I want this to go as smoothly as possible," the head Rocket nodded and the female underclassman took off after the fleeing Pokemon.

Misty, half-terrified for herself and half for Psyduck, stared at him defiantly.

"Now, girl, tell us what you've done with the bag you were carrying. We know you hid it somewhere and we're already sweeping the area with some of our soldiers so we're bound to find it eventually, but," he stopped for a moment and a wide, flat-lipped smirk spread across his face, "But I thought you'd like to tell us now and save us from the trouble of wasting all of this time. It's only safe to say that there's a chance of you living longer if you do comply with our wishes."

He stepped up to her side, followed closely by a few others, their clothes drenched by the storm, and picked her up from the ground, holding her arms back so that he strained her muscles. Misty gave a tiny groan of pain as he slipped his grip over her Pokemon-inflicted wound.

"Oh, I'm. . . sorry," he gave a sharp laugh and the others joined in. Misty scowled and gave a half-glare before turning away, unable to think of anything to do. She'd strung up her bad in a tree about three hundred meters back, along with the small box of memorabilia and all but one of her Pokemon, which she'd removed blindly from her things beforehand. And then she'd run as fast as her legs could carry her, her clothes soaked through from the rain, until she'd lost her footing and gotten herself caught.

A sudden rustling signaled a new Rocket teammates' return and Misty couldn't help but feel a sudden sense of foreboding, as though she already knew what was coming. The team leader half-threw Misty into another man's arms and walked over to this new appearance. Words were exchanged and then the Head-Rocket turned around, gripping something in his fist.

"Times up, little girl. We have what we need now and our colleague should be finishing up with that runt of a Pokemon any moment," suddenly something seemed to start clicking rapidly in Misty's mind, like a time-bomb just waiting to go off, "I guess now we don't need you after all, you see?" He held out the familiar red knapsack to show her something along the lines of their "progress".

That thing that had been ticking inside of her head exploded and the redhead snapped.

"No one," she took a moment to step on her captor's foot, "calls me," she elbowed him in the chest, "or my Pokemon," she turned around and shoved the man away, "runts!" She pivoted back to her position facing the head. The Rocket member she'd just beaten groaned from his sprawled out place on the ground.

She knew there was nothing left to lose. Her Psyduck was probably, at that very moment, being slaughtered by the female Rocket and these fellow members were through with her. Nothing was going to stop them now – they were sure to kill her any moment. All Misty knew was that she wasn't going down without a fight.

"Go, Tangela! Restrain her!" A voice called from behind and Misty felt the vines wrap around her arms and waist and legs, pulling her back a mere six inches from the man clutching her back, "Heh heh heh; how unexpected. Boss, why not let me take the first hit?"

The man before Misty gave a snide bark of laughter.

"Why not? She owes it to you after that pitiful attempt at escape." He started retreating to the back of the group, to a pathway probably leading to the seclusion of their getaway ride, "Just make sure that you let the others have a go. Oh, and. . ." He looked into Misty's eyes, ". . .Thanks so much for the humble gifts. Giovanni is much appreciative." He was hidden half in the darkness when some device among the group began to beep and he placed a small box to his lips and began to reply, ". . .Yes?"

All of the Rockets seemed to be focused in silence upon this halt in the situation. One man, it appeared, wanted to be closer and so he stepped around Misty and stood still in front of her, barely breathing. And then he swung around and punched her in the jaw, sending her to the ground. The Pokemon's vines constricted upon her as she fell, stunned and pained, and a few of the Rockets turned and cheered at the new display.

"You wanted to act selfless, with a soul filled of heroism all of these years, girl? And you decide to defend yourself and your worthless toy-like Pokemon by beating on those who are more than capable of taking care of you!" He was now breathing deeply and seemed, for a moment, to be calming down, "You think that your acts make you above us? Not when it is we, following our leader Giovanni, who are creating a new world order!" He grabbed her by her hair and she spit on him. He threw her back down in disgust and kicked her in the ribs. . . Once, twice. . . That was all she could really keep track of. . . And it made her projectile blood.

Her vision blurred temporarily and she saw the forms of many shadowy faces swimming in and out of her view. They were all laughing brusquely down at her. Misty forced herself up, still willing to fight if that's what it took.

"Why not just lay down and die!" Screamed one of the swaying figures, and another person knelt down, grabbed her head, and shoved it roughly into the earth, "You'll be gone from this world sooner or later!"

"—More like later," it was the group leader again. His tone was different now; it was more gruff and disappointed somehow, "Giovanni wants to meet with her. It seems that she has an interesting relationship to him."

There was a small chorus of frustrated growls and, among an almost blissful amount of pain, she could feel her body being lifted from the ground. A dull throb resounded somewhere in the back of her head, it hurt to breathe, and the constrictions on her legs, arms, and waist especially seemed to be crushing her bones. A small voice in the back of her mind twitched abruptly into activity.

_No; not Giovanni. If I'm anywhere near the end of my life, I don't want my last visions to be stained with the sights of him. Not the man whose evil blood runs through my veins. . ._ Misty attempted to fight against Tangela's hold on her, drawing the attention of the Rocket's nearest her.

"Look; the little bitch is still hoping to fight, after all of this?" There was a resounding snicker as many of the people around her turned again to watch.

"Blaizekin, use _Flame-Wheel_ on that Tangela! Ivysaur, use _Vine Whip_ to pull Misty over here!" A female voice shouted. Misty suddenly felt rather hot for a moment before gravity began taking over, dragging her to the damp forest floor. The fall was stopped short by a tangle of new vines wrapping around her and pulling her in some certain direction, "Oh, god – Misty. . . !"

"Pikachu, _Thunderbolt_ on those Team Rocket members; Swellow, catch Misty's bag!" A more familiar voice said, and thundering footsteps echoed in her now rattled mind as two mately faces swooped down upon her, "Misty, a-are you okay. . . ?"

The redhead attempted to respond but her mouth didn't seem to want to move. A third face came into view and Brock's brotherly expression replaced Ash and May's.

"What did they think they were going to do! Kill her!" May shrieked, her auburn locks limp with rain water as she stared, terrified, at her apparently petrified friend. Brock inspected the older girl and gave a very quick assumption. Misty felt the want to roll her eyes.

"By the look of it. . ." Brock gulped and looked at the Petalburg native with something closely related to terror on his face, "Yea. . ."

Ash's expression, formerly one filled with an insane amount of worry at his friends condition, changed to one of hatred as he looked up at May, who nodded. They both reached their feet and ran forward to their Pokemon, who were now awaiting new commands. Ash retrieved the red bag from Swellow's feet and he and May began shouting attacks.

"Blaizekin, _Fire Spin_! Ivysaur, _Solar Beam_!"

"Pikachu, _Thunder_! Swellow, _Steel Wing_!"

The Pokemon followed through with these instructions immediately, at some point causing a random chemical reaction that sent many of the Team Rocket members into the air. Their screams somehow helped Misty understand that she was safe, and pale, dream-like clouds began to replace her formerly clear vision. The last thing she remembered was Brock's reassuring statement.

"You're going to be okay now, Misty. . . Don't worry. . ."

OoO

At first, she thought that she was still outside. She could hear the crash of thunder, and the pounding of rain against some form of steel. She could also feel drops of the liquid against her forehead. But then, there were the voices, and the rag that someone was draping over her face, wiping it clean.

Her eyes snapped open and Misty jumped up into a sitting position, groaning in pain and causing the person who'd been beside her to fall backward with a yelp.

"Ow. . . Ugh, w-what's going on. . . ?" She blinked rapidly a few times against the light and her view became slowly clearer, "Where am I. . . ?"

"Oh, uh, Misty. . . You're at the Rustboro Pokemon Center." Came a new, lonesome voice from a few feet away, "Your friends brought you here after you collapsed outside of town. You've been here for a few hours now." Nurse Joy answered the girls' unasked question and handed her the rag she'd been using to towel her dry.

"But. . . I heard you talking to someone. Who--?" She couldn't help being suspicious at this point. . .

"Your friends are intent on seeing you. But I wanted you to get as much sleep as possible for now, what with the injuries you sustained. They're not serious!" The nurse added quickly, "But I am going to strongly recommend bed-rest for the next few days." Misty knew that 'strongly', in this case, meant that there was absolutely no chance of her getting outside for at least half of a week.

"Well, c-can I at least see my friends now that I'm up?" Misty pleaded, ignoring the almost involuntary flinch that followed suit by the movement.

"Hmm. . . I guess it would be a good idea. I'm sure you have as many questions for them as they have for you," Joy nodded, looking almost uncharacteristically stern, before walking out the door, leaving it open for Ash, May, Brock, and Pikachu to dash inside, Psyduck waddling slowly afterward and settling itself just beyond the door, which closed automatically on its tail, making him squawk in pain and scamper behind May's leg.

"Thank goodness you're okay, Misty!" The younger girl cried, looking unbelievably close to tears, "W-we were all so worried about you, especially after you lost consciousness!"

Misty couldn't help but feel flattered by May's sympathy since they didn't know each other that well to begin with.

"Yea, you really had us going there for awhile. . ." Brock continued, laughing weakly with relief, "I've never known Team Rocket to be so worked up about a few Pokemon before."

Ash, who'd sat down in the only available seat upon entering the ward, as though he'd collapse otherwise, wasn't looking at any of them. Rather, his face was leaning towards the ground and he was clutching the edges of his seat in a sense of silent fury.

He spoke without warning, "But then, no Pokemon is worth killing the trainer over, right? They must have wanted you for something else. . . I-I mean, they bruised two of your ribs, for God's sakes!" His fury seemed to visibly boil atop his head at this point.

"Actually, you're right, Ash. . ." He chose this moment to look up just in time for Misty to turn away. The tension thickened to something five times as strong, "My Pokemon and I didn't have something that could so thoroughly destroy them." Looking up, Misty noticed the three friends' reactions, "Um. . . Where's my bag?" She asked.

Brock stood fully, "Nurse Joy was checking your Pokemon so we left it with her. I'll go get it." And he took off out the door.

"Oh; also. . ." May rummaged in her phanny-pack, removing a grimy Pokeball from within, "We tried calling Psyduck back but he kept running around the retrieval beam. I guess he wanted to be sure that you were okay." She handed the capturing device to Misty, who held it in her hand, looking down at her Pokemon. Psyduck stared back with its blank expression, tipping its head sideways. Misty smiled at him to show her thanks.

"I guess that I owe everyone a lot for what happened back there," Misty attempted to stretch her arms but gingerly retracted them from the pain, "Especially you two." She nodded towards Ash and May, hoping they'd grin back at her and they could all start to move on, but the two of them gave the tiniest fraction of a glance at each other, seemingly deciding something, before turning back intently to face her.

"You wanna make it up to us? Tell us what's been going on with you over all this time, and why Team Rocket needs to get rid of you." Ash stated quietly, looking somehow mature.

Brock entered the room again and handed Misty's bag back to her before he bothered to notice the stiff silence between the three teenagers.

"Uh, did I miss something. . . ?" He asked.

"You're just in time to get some answers, actually." Ash replied with simplicity, "I think we deserve them." His expression was rather cold, as though he knew already of the countless things Misty was hiding from him. And he looked hurt by the knowledge of her apparent lies.

"Hey, it's not like I wanted to walk around all my life and keep things from my friends! You're making it sound as though I enjoyed it!" Misty shouted, her voice suddenly able to reach its greatest heights, "My mother tried to take down Team Rocket single-handed, and that got her killed! Now I'm completing that mission that she created for herself! I'm keeping Team Rocket from taking over the world!"

This expression seemed to have a massive effect on her audience. Brock, not having been there before, was still sporting signs of overall confusion on his face. May, young though she was, was holding Pikachu to her, overcome with sympathy. Ash still looked disbelieving and defiant, but he did have the grace to feel slightly guilty.

"Just what the heck are you talking about, Misty?"

"I'm – I'm talking about. . . My mom, and how she was a member of Team Rocket. When she found out that she was pregnant with me, she tried to get out, to get away from the organization, but they wouldn't let her leave because of her strengths. . . I – I don't really know much else. . . I remember, on my eighth birthday, Team Rocket attacked my mom. They killed her with an experimental version of their greatest weapon. Something called an 'EAB'." Misty rummaged around in her things, soon after removing the all too familiar, small, dark box which contained Team Rocket's desires, "In here is. . . a disc. Formatted into that disc is the planning procedure for the 'EAB.'"

". . .Well, what is the 'EAB'? What's it made to do? Why didn't your mom turn it in when she had the chance?" Brock asked.

"I don't know what the 'E' and 'A' stand for, but it's a bullet t-that causes about a hundred times the average amount of pain. . . Or, at least, the trial one did. . . My mom actually peeled the bullet from her chest and. . . and handed it to me before saying goodbye and moving on. . ." Misty took a moment to sniffle, tears forming in her eyes, ". . .I guess that neither the plans or experimental version had Team Rocket's trademark on it, which would be the only thing linking them to the production. After all, the leader Giovanni couldn't own up to being involved with. . . something else than perfect. . ." She spat bitterly.

"You're not telling us something; I can tell. . ." May started, "Did you do something with the bullet? And what's Team Rocket planning to do with you after they get what they want?"

"I. . . I hid it. . . Somewhere that Team Rocket, hopefully, won't figure to look. And I'd rather not tell you because. . . It's not in a place I like to brag about putting my hands." Misty ignored her three companions expressions of half-fear and disgust, "And. . . Team Rocket normally intended to kill me. . . But it seems that they've got new orders. Giovanni wants to meet me. . ."

"Meet you? Why?"

"Well, uh, it could be that he might want to torture me for what my mom did, taking that disc, or it could be that he's curious of how I've evaded him and his troops for so long; there's a chance that he hoped to interrogate me about you, Ash, since you always put a damper in his plans. . . or it could have to do with the fact that I'm his daughter. . ." She finished in a mutter.

There was a vast silence, followed by the obviously delayed response, "_What_!"

"It. . . I was the outcome of months. . . or years. . . or rape. I found out recently that Giovanni called my mom to him as his subject often enough, and he turned her into his personal whore. . ." Misty glanced pointedly at May, wondering if she could possibly be old enough to take such a story at this point, "I don't know what he wants from me, but he interrupted his followers' in the middle of their beating me to death; I guess I should be grateful for that."

"Grateful! He probably wants to tell you that you're the rightful heir to the Rocket thieving empire! That's not something to be grateful for!" Ash shouted, "I can't – I just don't – don't get me wrong, Misty. I'm sorry for all of this that's happened to you, I really am. But I can't help thinking that the only reason you're here is that you're seeking some sort of comforting protection. I'm your friend, we all are, but I don't think any of us like being used."

Misty could feel a strong anger brewing within her at Ash's words. She'd never known him to be so misunderstanding before now. She knew that he, May, and Brock would probably be a little conscious about the whole situation, being as dangerous as it was, but how could Ash think that her ability to rely on him meant that she was so clearly taking advantage of their friendship?

"You're such an. . ." Misty began, but she was interrupted.

". . .Idiot!" May said, shocking all of them, including herself, "You really think that Misty would come here for our help with now sense of guilt in her mind? For almost ten years, half of which she traveled with you, she's had to harbor this secret. She's had to look over her shoulder with every turn she's made, because there's a chance that some Team Rocket trainer is going to come after her. She's kept this all from you and Brock and all her other friends in hopes of keeping you safe from people who are obviously okay with killing!" May took a deep breath and stared at the raven-haired boy as though his forthcoming reaction would fuel her onwards, "How could you possibly confuse that level of selflessness with something like usance!"

"I – I didn't mean. . . Well, I did, but. . ." Ash sighed, unable to come up with an excuse, "Look, I'm sorry, okay? Maybe it's the stress of seeing you beaten half to death getting to me, but I can't help wondering if this is just a bit bigger that us. It's not that I don't care; it's just that I'm worried. Maybe it's time for us to learn to look before we leap."

Misty noticed that she wasn't the only one to roll her eyes at that comment.

"Hey, Ash. . . ?" She started innocently in reply, "How many cliffs have you jumped over, and how many raging rivers have you thrown yourself into, while I've been gone?" The sarcasm in her tone was quite evident.

Ash responded with a sheepish 'heh' just as the clock on the wall chimed for the hour of midnight.

"Hmm. . ." Brock started, "Maybe we should head for bed now? I've already reserved us a room here at the Center, and it's getting pretty late."

"Well, it's not like we've got anywhere to go for the next few days, since Misty's going to be needing that extra rest to get her health back up. And maybe she wants to know how we found out about her being here," May said.

"Wait; wasn't it Psyduck who made you follow out onto the path?" Misty questioned, her brow creasing, "I mean, I know that it was late, so how else would you have known that I needed your help?"

"Oh, well, uh, I guess that we can all thank Jessie, James, and Meowth for that. It may have been late, and the Center may have been closing, but those three seem to think that they're the masters of stealth. They tried another one of their infamous attacks. . ." Brock massaged his chin.

OoO

_"Jessie, how many times are we going to try this tactic? It's getting older than the 'shoveling-a-very-deep-hole, covering-it-with-branches-and-brambles, and-hope-the-twerps-fall-into-it' plan. . . !"James whined, his hands groping his stomach, "And I'm hungry!"_

_"Ugh, James, when are you going to learn that it's not all about you? And this strategy is totally different from the last one! Last time we tried this and got closest to success, we used Victreebell to try and keep the Twerps asleep with 'Sleep Powder', and they still ended up kicking our butts! But. . ." Jessie gave a slightly deviant laugh, "This time we've got something far better than that! Show him, Meowth!"_

_"Right, Jessie!" Meowth pulled a sleek silver suitcase out of nowhere and plucked open the snap-locks to reveal three human-sized headsets and a single small Pokemon piece, "One hundred percent soundproof, steal and foam-padded for comfort and security, perfect for Team Rocket Pokemon thieving in the dead of night!"_

_"Yea, now our only issue would be how we're going to put them over the brats' heads without them waking up in the process. . ." Jessie replied, opening another of the many doors leading to the rooms they were searching through, looking inside, shutting it again, and moving on to the next one._

_Meowth sighed and whispered into James' ear, "We's never seem to think these things through, does we?"_

_In the process of opening another foor, Jessie turned and screeched at her teammates, "What was that!" And, in her might, caused the door to crash open completely._

_There was some muffled rummaging inside and then May slowly rose from under the blankets._

_"W. . . What's going on. . . ?" She rubbed at her sleep-filled eyes and blinked them open again just in time to see Team Rocket's frame against the hallway's light, "Wah!" She threw the covers over her head._

_"Wah!" Team Rocket replied._

_"Wah!" May said again, "Ash, Brock, Pikachu – wake up! It's Team Rocket!" Her shout caused a short storm of groaning and snoring before Ash replied sleepily._

_"May, w-what is it you're yelling about. . . ?"_

_"Jessie, James, and Meowth! Team Rocket's at our door!"_

_"What!" Brock yelled, leaping out of bed. Ash followed suit, shaking Pikachu awake as well._

_"Pikachu, use—" Ash started, but Jessie, James, and Meowth were already dashing, panicked, down the hallway and towards the front of the building, "Hey, come back here, Team Rocket!" And he and the others grabbed their Pokeballs and went after them._

_"Oh, no, Jessie. . . ! The door's locked!" James said as he tried unsuccessfully to crash through it._

_"No, really? Why else did we get in through the ventilation. . . duct. . ." Jessie replied, ending in a tense murmur, "Oh, no!" And she grabbed her teammates by the scruffs of their necks, turned around, and came face-to-face with Ash, May, and Brock, all looking a bit peeved about their disturbed night of rest, "Eh heh, heh, heh. . ." The trio inched around slowly and inconspicuously to face the swinging doors again, silently feeling them up for an escape route, ". . .You know, Twerps, w-we haven't had a c-chance to steal anything yet, s-so. . . technically speaking, you really have no l-legal rights to send us packing. . ."_

_"Oh, yeah? Well your intentions lead us to believe otherwise!" Brock said, "Crobat, go! Use—"_

_"Wait. . . What's dat?" Meowth interrupted, staring outside with squinted eyes (Brock: "Stop mocking me!") since the humidity and rain was fogging up the glass, "Is dat a. . . Psyduck? In da Hoenn Region?"_

_"Who cares? Pikachu, use 'Iron Tail!'"_

_"Crobat, 'Psybeam!'"_

_The combined attacks busted Team Rocket through the doors and into the bushes._

_"Knowing da irony of dis show, we'll end up payin' for da damages, won't we?" Meowth stated miserably as the Pokemon group followed after the thieving team and readied their Pokemon for the final blasting off._

_Then, just as Pikachu's cheeks started crackling in strength, the Psyduck waddled between the electric mouse and the fallen cronies._

_"W-what do you suppose that Pokemon's doing, Brock. . . ?" May asked, confused at the water creature's position, "Is Psyduck a member of Team Rocket?"_

_Pikachu, also caught off guard by the Pokemon's move, accidentally let loose a bit of stored up electricity, catching Team Rocket so that they ended up giving a chorus of shrieks as they writhed about on the ground. Psyduck suddenly went into a frenzy and started running around May's ankles, before circling around Jessie._

_"How can we tell what he's saying?" May asked. Jessie tore from the ground, dragging Meowth with her._

_"If you don't blast us off, we'll have our feline translate for you. . ." She said very sweetly._

_"Hey; don't exploit da Top-Cat's talents!" Meowth tried to escape the young woman's grip. The two began arguing ferociously, but were interrupted by a broad crowing from the duck-like Pokemon._

_"Psy-ye-ye, Psyduck!"_

_Meowth crossed his arms and turned away, refusing to do anything. . . Until Jessie's glare changed his mind._

_"What. . . Did. . . He. . . Say?" The violet-haired girl prodded the cat in the ears, making him shudder at the sensitivity, "You're saving. . . Me from. . . An angry. . . Retribution. . ." These words seemed to catch the feline's attention._

_"Haaeehh. . ." He sighed, "He says dat. . . He wants peanut butter."_

_"I can't believe that Psyduck was making all of that noise just to say. . ." May started, but Psyduck interrupted with an affirmative quack of glee, "Okay, then. . ."_

_"Psyduck duck psy-ye Psyduck duck."_

_"Oh, also, somedin' about a Rocket executive trying to broil him." The cat finished, as some fanatical woman in black came crashing through the trees._

_"There you are, you litte—"_

_"Pikachu, 'Thunder!'"_

_Feet from Psyduck, the Rocket lady felt the head-on infliction of the lightning attack. The force of the technique sent her flying backwards and into Jessie, James, and Meowth. The whole lot of them ended up shooting into the sky._

_"Oops. . ." Ash muttered sheepishly as he, May, and Brock watched them go/ Then, as one, the group looked down at the Psyduck again, who was staring listlessly up at them as though waiting for something. ". . .You know, Brock, I've gotta admit that he looks familiar. . ." Ash knelt to the Pokemon's level and inspected him closely, "In fact, I've only seen one Psyduck with an expression that dumb. You don't think. . . that Misty's close-by, do you?" The younger boy looked up at his oldest friend but he shot back around almost immediately because the duck had taken off back in the direction he'd first come, squawking animatedly, ". . .We should follow after him, just in case something's wrong." Ash reached his feet again and he and the others rushed off into the woods._

OoO

". . .Huh. . ." Misty said, patting her Psyduck on the head, "I guess I owe it to give him that peanut butter." Her Pokemon looked up with a surprisingly hopeful expression on his face, "But it's going to be kinda hard to do that from here. Nurse Joy's got me bed-ridden for almost a week, at least. I guess that that means our shopping trip with have to wait; sorry, May."

"As if you should apologize! Besides, maybe this is a good thing! It gives you and me a chance to get better acquainted with one another; and for all of us to try and come up with a plan." May looked to Ash and Brock, who both nodded in agreement.

"In any case, we're going to have to move you to our bedroom in a few hours. This room is usually reserved for seriously injured Pokemon. Nurse Joy's going to need it back," Brock stated affectionately at the mention of the lovely attendant, "So we'll let you get some rest for now and then we'll come back and help you out of here. Be sure to walk as slowly as possible 'cause it might be awhile before you see anything other than a certain set of four walls."

"Yea. . ." Misty yawned, "I guess that I'd better drop off for now, then. . . Erm, see you later, guys." She gave them all a wide smile and they returned it before waving and beginning to walk out the door.

Now finally alone, Misty called back Psyduck into his Pokeball, placed it at her side, and collapsed back onto the pillows behind her. Truth be told, she wasn't nearly as tired as she thought she'd be. There was too much going on at this point.

Why? Why, after all of this time, did Giovanni want to meet her? He's spent so many years hoping to catch her mother, and three different squads had already attempted to take her out permanently. All of a sudden, he wanted a reunion? It took Misty almost ten minutes of wondering how she'd react upon meeting him before she finally remembered that she wasn't going to.

After all, as Brock had said earlier, she was safe.

_But. . . What about Ash? _She thought, a wave of doubt sweeping over her. Ash was her greatest ally among all of her friends; if he wasn't sure about her and this entire situation, then how could she truly depend on any of them? Misty knew that he'd said it was just the panic of seeing her so battered that made him think that way, and she was flattered. . . But she knew that wasn't true. Ash was just making excuses again. After all, hadn't he acknowledged the fact that this entire thing was bigger than all of them?

It was amazing that, while Misty could know she was surrounded by friends who'd never abandon her, she could still feel so wholly unsafe. For a distinct moment, she even actually considered making a run for it, and leaving everything here behind and forgetting she'd ever found Ash, and Brock again.

But she could never do that.

She knew that, though he may not have sounded that way, Ash cared enough about her to travel around the world just to find her again, even if it meant putting his dream on hold. And Misty knew that, at this point, he was already giving up enough for her.

Suddenly, the weight of simplicity towards their other, "Hello's", and, "Goodbye's", seemed so much more apparent. She'd certainly made an impression on them all this time around, but it wasn't the one she was hoping for. She could only wonder if she'd have the chance to try it again.

And with that thought, Misty felt herself falling into what would be a dreamless sleep.

OoO

"Er. . . Misty?" The voice questioned, gently massaging her shoulder so as not to hurt her, "It's almost ten in the morning. We have to move you so that Nurse Joy can sterilize the room and have it ready for and of the badly hurt Pokemon that could be coming in later today." Misty could now distinguish May's face above her as she blinked the sleep away, "I'm gonna help you into our room 'cause Ash and Brock are doing. . . something. . ." She ended mysteriously.

"O-okay. . ." Misty yawned and began to arch her back into a sitting position, but she moved too quickly and ended up flinching against the wall behind her, which only intensified the pain, "Ugh. . ."

May smiled sadly at her in sympathy before holding out a hand to help the redhead back up. Once Misty had forced herself forward and almost off of the bed, May's one arm snaked itself under her shoulder and around her back while the other curled itself on the Cerulean native's abdomen. And, for the first time since gaining her injuries, Misty stood on her own two feet.

The pain was so agonizing that she almost crumpled to the floor in a heap. The only thing that kept her standing through it all was May's arms around her.

The white-hot fire burning beneath her flesh was so pure, so instant, that she could hardly breathe. Her heart beat so strongly that she could feel the blood pounding in her ears, and her nerves seemed completely shot; every length of her was trembling. May, knowing that it would probably irritate her, chose not to look her way, but, with a resolute expression on her face, strengthened her hold and took a cautious step forward, leaving the pain to grow even stronger.

It was a very slow and steady walk to the room Brock had rented them and Misty had to stop for a moment at least twice. By the time she'd been eased onto the bottom bunk she'd be sharing with May, both girls were out of breath.

"Oh. . ." May undid the zipper to her bag and withdrew a couple of hospital-like serving packets and a spoon, "It's peanut butter; for Psyduck."

"Er, thanks," Misty replied, taking them into her hands. It wasn't much, but she knew that her Pokemon would be eager for the prize just the same, "So, what's keeping Ash and Brock so busy?" Her question was asked just in time for the two boys to come traipsing through the door.

"May. . . !" Ash whined, "How could you leave us hanging down in the cafeteria with those one thousand packs of peanut butter you bought!" Ash stated, and Misty saw that his arms were loaded down with said condiment, "Oh, hi, Misty," he finished lamely.

"Idiot. . ." She murmured in reply, hoping that her expression wasn't too disappointedly looking at the carelessness on his face as he greeted her, and she turned her nose up before glancing at May again, "You bought all of that for Psyduck on your own?"

May obviously thought this funny because she chose to laugh, "Of course! He kinda saved your life, didn't he? Shouldn't he get the one thing he wants in return for that? And don't say I didn't help! I carried two of them up here! And I got Misty moved into our room all on my own!"

"Yea, probably. . . But why didn't they help out?" Misty jerked her head in the direction of Ash and Brock and ignoring May's second half of her statement, "Come to think of it, why didn't I help out? You should have told me that you planned to do something like that; I mean, it's not like I wouldn't have helped reward my own Pokemon. . ."

May, looking slightly bashful, said, "Okay, answering those in chronological order; Ash didn't help because he spent all of his pre-noon earnings on breakfast, Brock didn't help out because he spent all of his earnings on six rose bouquets for Nurse Joy, and you didn't help because, as you said, we didn't tell you. And we didn't tell you because you weren't supposed to find out that I'd ended up buying it all myself." May took in some oxygen and then gave a quick half-glare at Ash for his having blurted that information out.

"Well, how much did it cost? I'll pay for half of it, at least," Misty said, leaning down to retrieve some cash from her bag, flinching, sitting straight again, and waiting for May to hand it to her.

"Well, it's one thousand packets, and they're twenty-five cents each, so. . ." May took a moment to do the math, "Two hundred and fifty dollars, divide by two. . . One hundred and twenty-five dollars. But if you try to help pay for it, I'll burn the money you give me. I did this because Psyduck deserves it, and because you're my friend. And a friendship doesn't revolve around what two people give each other. You don't have to pay me back." She ended simply, leaving Misty almost speechless with gratitude.

"Th-thanks. . ." Trying to avoid the satisfied expression on the auburn-haired girls' face, she turned back to Ash and Brock, who were hurriedly depositing the peanut butter packets into an empty dresser drawer, "Do you guys think you could leave for a bit? I kinda wanted to get cleaned up. . ."

"Maybe it's better that you don't." Brock stated in a parent-like tone, as Misty, who almost seemed to enjoy the pain she put herself through, began to move into a better position on the bed, "I mean, really, is it worth making your injuries worse?"

"Brock," Misty started skeptically, "My hair is practically stiff from caked mud, my clothes are like plaster to my skin, and I have blood from my cuts and things all over the place. Plus, I need to change the bandages on my arm, or else it could get infected. Now, which sounds worse to you? A horrible and possibly life threatening infection in my bloodstream, or a bit of pain from my current injuries just on the way to the bathroom?" She stopped speaking and continued to rise to her feet, "Besides, maybe a good, hot bath is exactly what I need."

It took a minute for anyone to respond, but then. . .

"I'm with her," May stated almost immediately, and she began to rush forward to shoo Ash and Brock from the room, "Now, don't worry. I'll make sure that she makes it through the morning alive and well and without running off on us; okay?"

The two boys barely got a word in before she shut the door on them, turned around, and sighed.

"Thanks for that," Misty offered after May recovered from the waver, and the younger girl moved forward to help the older into the bathing extension, "This should be – Ow! – nice. . ." Misty ended in a grunt as May helped her sit on the toilet seat and turned to the faucets to adjust the water to the right temperature.

After she was done, the coordinator returned to Misty's front and helped strip her of her clothes and self-applied bandages, which was hard to do, considering that every part of the redhead was either stiff or so pained that she repeatedly curled into a fetal position at the contractions. Misty kept grinding her teeth and digging her nails into untarnished parts of her flesh as though hoping to lessen the extremities of her various aches.

"You might not want to do that," May said with a pointed gaze at the currently self-inflicted injuries, "It'll most likely roughen your road to recovery." And she helped the older girl hopscotch her way over to the tub and raise her foot over the cool plaster rim before allowing her to collapse into the rather hot water and settle herself in.

Misty hissed at the delicacy of her nerves as the liquid around her sloshed against her wounds and ground against her skin. She closed her eyes and breathed through her flaring nostrils as May watched her anxiously, pulling off her training gloves, gripping a washcloth and soap, and lathering it up to apply it to Misty's body. Feeling just a bit embarrassed, May handed the towel to Misty so that she could clean herself the best that was possible in her condition.

"Er. . . Thanks," Misty said, also turning slightly red and moving across her face, neck, and shoulders, and refraining from flinching. When she held out the arm that had been bitten by Raticate, scabbed and torn open twice afterward, however, she found that she couldn't help it.

"I don't think I've ever seen anything look so. . . bad," May murmured for lack of a better word, "I don't think you told us about how you got that, though. I mean. . . it's obvious that it wasn't from last night." She accepted the cloth again and began to clean off Misty's back, which had bruised along with her wrists and ankles from the Tangela's grip, and which also withheld a nice amount of scratches from being dragged and shoved along the ground. There was a possibility that some were even caused by her napping in the trees every night for almost two weeks (minus the day she spent at Petalburg Gym).

"Well, it's a pretty. . . adult-worthy story; and Ash looked ready to wring a few necks with just what I'd said last night. If I told him. . ." Misty broke off here and choked back something along the lines of a sob, ". . .And the rest of you what almost happened to me back there at the gym. . ."

"And what would that be?" May's tone was now not only sympathetic and caring, but stern as she removed the shower nozzle and reset the water to a comfortable temperature, made sure that the air pressure in the snout was low, and began to run it through Misty's tangled locks of ginger hair.

"I don't think it'd do you any good to know. All I can say is that Team Rocket found me there, and the main leaders' Raticate made his way to my arm, and. . . if it weren't for my Gyarados, I'd have been hurt in a lot more ways than one. . ."

May, who seemed to know immediately what she meant, dropped the shower spout into the tub of now draining water.

"You don't mean—" A knock at the closed bathroom door signified that Ash or Brock, in their impatience, had come to call.

"Hey, Misty!" It was Ash. "Um, Brock and I got you something to eat for when you're done in there." His tone lingered slightly, making it know that he wasn't finished, "And, you know, I was wondering. . . Well, I mean, you aren't using it, so. . ."

"Spit it out, Ash!" Misty shouted in irritation, but the blush on her cheeks betrayed her anxiety and embarrassment at the thought that the door she was currently staring at was the only thing preventing her best friend from seeing her entire self.

". . .I was just hoping I could tinker with your PokeNav. Please? I won't break it, and I can exchange the identification number we gave you over the communicator with your own, so that you won't have to worry about it, you know?" He sounded almost exactly like a young child hoping to convince his mom to buy him a new toy by giving her a list of the pro's included with owning that toy.

Misty and May quirked their eyebrows at one another, their thoughts exactly the same; how could someone who sounded like that possibly be sixteen years old? Misty then sighed in resignation and replied.

"Sure; whatever. Just do me one other favor while you're at it. . ."

"And what's that?"

"NEVER INTRUDE ON ME WHEN I'M IN THE BATHROOM, YOU PERVERT! EVER AGAIN! NOW GET AWAY FROM HERE!" Had she not been feeling so nauseous, she probably would have whipped something on, pulled out one of her standard mallets, and chased him away manually, but there was nothing for it. She was having difficulty trying to catch her breath because every intake was strenuous and painful.

There was the sound of a door slamming shut (that belonging to the bedroom entrance from the hallway) and then it was just her and May again, who was still staring at her with a wide range of emotions on her face; sympathy, pity, affection, worry, and, just barely evident, anger.

"You know, I don't think I've ever been so insulted."

"Excuse me?" Misty questioned, not understanding what May meant by her statement, but she continued as though she hadn't been interrupted.

"Well, I mean, sure, we haven't been friends for years, but I'd have thought that, after all you'd been through, you'd know who you can trust; who you can tell the whole story to. You know, I'm not the only one who should know all of this. Maybe you didn't realize yesterday, but Brock and, especially, Ash were terrified with worry about what happened to you. It's not much of a way to repay them, or me, keeping secrets like that, no matter how irrelevant you may find them."

"I'm. . . sorry. But I just. . . The only reason I didn't mention it is because. . . it's something a bit too mature for everyday discussion, even after all that I said. And, well. . ." Misty gave May a look that the younger girl knew, recognized, and understood.

"I wish that everyone would stop doing that!" She replied indignantly, "I mean, I know I'm not legally of age, but you can't deny that I'm probably more mature than Ash half of the time! And you shouldn't stop yourself from telling us about these things just because you're a little uncomfortable with me—"

"—It's not just you, okay! Yes, I won't deny that I'd like to keep certain things from you because you're younger than the rest of us, but we're also talking about rape, or attempted rape, or whatever!" There was frustration in the redhead's tone as she said this, "How can you expect me to – to come out with something like that! What makes you think that it's so easy for me to say or describe what that man. . . almost did to me!" By now, her voice was no more than a wavering murmur. Her shoulders shook with sobs that did all but lessen the fiery burn of her injuries.

"I didn't. . . I'm. . . I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. . . I know that it's rough to talk about these horrible things, and to let yourself go, but I can only imagine that it should help you – the way you're feeling." The awkward position the two girls sat in was punctured only by the subsiding gasps and cries that Misty unleashed into the despairing atmosphere.

The redhead wouldn't admit it just then, but she knew that May was right. There was no way that she'd ever forget what had happened at the Cerulean Gym, but talking about it to someone she knew that she could trust, someone such as a personal confidante, was bound to ease the proper existence of what could become an obsession of the things that could have been.

"Now I think that we've had enough crying for now, at least, so let's hurry and get to washing your hair before that food Ash brought you gets too cold," May said with as much appeasing enthusiasm as she could muster and Misty smiled softly in reply.

"Yea; and if he didn't put any peppers or carrots on my plate just to spite me, make sure to remind me to thank him for that the next time I see him."

"Gotcha," May replied, not fully understanding.

OoO

The next week was dedicated almost wholly to Misty's recovery and, to be frank, she was pleased to be getting along quite well. It was true that, though her friends usually tried to usher her into bed at the notice of any ginger movement she made, she was up and out of her bed more often every day. She'd sometimes vanish without the slightest trace, making Ash, Brock, and May worry, only to be found up to an hour later, washing Psyduck free of peanut butter remains around his beak and arms, or else in the park fifteen a quarter of a mile away, hoping to catch a bit of sunlight before she was chased back to and within the PokeCenter.

Because Misty's health had become as important as something under national security, it was soon to be made a rule that she should be accompanied by at least one of them at all times that she was outside.

Each one of her friends left a different type of imprint during their walks with her.

May's following her usually meant a trip to the beach or the mall, where the Petalburg girl would spend the afternoon picking out clothes for Misty to try on and then squeal almost too wildly when the redhead came out wearing them. Because of this reaction, the two girls had been kicked out of at least three department stores by security, thanks to May's sounding like a loose cannon fire alarm and her upsetting nearby children.

Brock's behavior was so brotherly, it often made Misty long to hang herself. Not only did he carry a large first-aid kit with him wherever they went, but when she chose to sigh exasperatedly at his actions, he automatically took it as a moan of fatigue and forced her to sit on whatever the nearest sturdy surface happened to be, which usually resulted in him wrestling her onto a garden-wall fence.

Meanwhile, Ash's accompanying Misty was a type of embarrassment in itself. Though he didn't act it in front of May or Brock, he was still feeling highly guilty about his outburst the night Misty returned in which he'd mentioned how little he could possibly trust in her. His sideways glances in her direction annoyed her, but it also touched her so greatly to see him feeling this way that she wasn't fond of shouting at him to quit it. It was something of a spectacle, therefore, to watch the two furiously awkward teenagers leave together in a stiff silence and then return hours later, just the same.

In the end, it frustrated Misty so much that, at the merest mention of the world beyond the Pokemon Center, she maintained a resolve strong enough to carry her to the bedroom she'd been forced to occupy her entire first week back with her friends. Hoping so strongly to be ignored, Misty locked the door for hours at a time and whiled away those excruciatingly long days counting the tiles of the ceiling or the smudges on the window panes…

The fact that Ash and May's journey was temporarily shot left Misty with enough painstakingly lonesome time to herself so that she'd finally been able to tend to her afflictions in the appropriate manner. Almost two weeks after her return, she'd reduced the once-horrible scabbing and bleeding Raticate wound to a mere shallow scar. Her other bruises and scratches had become small pale inflictions upon her peachy flesh. Her ribs, though still tender, only ached when strenuously overworked. Almost completely healed and with a great amount of Pokemon able and at her disposal, she hoped that her friends would stop with their insanely overbearing attempts to keep watch over her, but it was no good.

So, day by day, she was made to undergo secure visual contact and a childish sense of lockdown.

The only upside to this situation (if you could call it that) was that, while flanked by the shadows of Ash, Brock, and May, Misty was still able to keep her thoughts to herself and so she was able to think freely about the many inconsistencies of her life while everyone else was none the wiser. She often wondered about her father, Giovanni, and his evil organization, and why he hadn't sent a new team to retrieve her. After all, there was no doubt in her mind that the last one that had been defeated by Ash and May had survived and, having caused Misty such injuries, had gone to tell her father of how they'd weakened her.

Not wanting to linger on the possibilities of Giovanni's revenge for long, she'd then begin to speculate about Daisy, Lily, and Violet; about how the youngest two of the surrogate relatives were hating her more for the trouble she caused them, and about how Daisy, in exasperation, would attempt to quell their rants of personal war against her.

Of course she wouldn't want to think of that for long either, and so, with nothing else to distract her, she had only thoughts of her mother to turn to now. Back in Cerulean, before she'd made off to the Hoenn region so that she could find Ash, Misty had given a trustworthy Pidgeotto a letter to give to her sisters. Because the carrier bird didn't know what the eldest one looked like, she'd shown him a picture of her so that he could distinguish her from the crowd. But there had been another picture there.

It was one that she hardly ever dare to look at, not because it could have betrayed her former identity, but because looking at it brought about the swift impact of lack of remembrance. The single face of a lovely young woman, her mother, staring back at her from the depths of her still, two-dimensional pose; well, it hurt to wonder about it, the fact that she couldn't remember for the life of her anything about the woman who brought her into the world to begin with.

OoO

Finally the knowledge that Ash, May, and Brock had been staying at the Rustboro Pokemon Center for over two weeks seemed to hit them with enough force for them to come to understand that they should talk to Misty about what they were going to do.

"I – we can't tell the police about this, can we? I mean, they probably wouldn't believe us in the first place. . . My mom was willing to put herself to death to keep her hands on this box," Misty held it out to show them all, "I can't even think about going to the cops if there's a chance they'll just take it away, lock it and us up, and forget about it. And. . . I want to finish this for her. After what my father did to her, to me, and to the Waterflowers. . . The only thing that would please me is to see him put away for it all."

"There's a word for that, isn't there? It's called 'revenge'," Brock stated regretfully, "And I know it seems hopeless, but we're not prepared to take Team Rocket on alone, nor to keep running from them until the time you find enough – whatever it is you need to find – in order for the police to believe what you've got to say. Yes, we've gotten involved with some of Team Rocket's more dangerous plans, but the worst they've been about is taking control of deathly strong Pokemon. This is murder, mass weaponry, world dominance. . ."

"Don't remind me," Misty said bitterly under her breath, "I know you think this is just some idiotic personal feud for me but. . . it's not like I can help my attachment to it. My. . . father. . . sent his troops to kill my mom and then he sent them after me. Three times, at that."

"Well, we can't stay here, either way." May said, "A group of trainers who should be eagerly on the road to becoming Masters? We had an excuse when you first showed up, Misty, because of your condition; but now it's going to look suspicious, unfortunately. We have no business here now, so to linger just draws attention."

"What do you think, Ash?" Brock interjected, looking to the younger boy.

"Oh, uh, well, besides wondering why my opinion matters so much, I guess that I. . ." Ash's glance swung from Brock, to May, to Misty. . . And he saw the look in her eyes. He knew that, no matter what they decided, if it wasn't what Misty had had in mind, she wouldn't go for it; she was too determined to do anything else, "I guess that I'll have to agree with Misty."

The two girls and one boy waiting for him to reply blinked in amazement. After all, just a couple of weeks ago, he'd been complaining about how big this was, how they'd do well not to try and conquer it alone, but now he was suddenly all for it. . . ?

"You – you really think I'm right, Ash?" Misty's tone was light enough not to betray how much it meant to her that Ash had trusted her judgment, but the grin growing rapidly across her face might not have been too helpful if she was trying to hide how she really felt.

"Yea, well, I don't think this is a matter much of what choice it right or wrong." Brock stated wisely, "Both decisions are liable to have consequences, losses. We just have to guess which ones will be less important to us."

"I do' though. I mean, I do think Misty's right, or whatever. With all of us, there might be a chance; you can't deny that. But if we go to the police and tell them what we know and hand over what we've got, and it ends up that they don't believe us, well – there's an immediate loss. It's been almost twenty years and Team Rocket still hasn't succeeded in getting back what Misty's mom stole from them. . . Maybe we're stronger than we think." Ash took in his friends' reactions to his statement and then he continued, "And besides, have you looked at Misty, guys? She's not going to let us disagreeing with her stop her from doing what she thinks is right."

"And Officer Jenny may be nice over all, but if we run up to her and just start shooting our mouths off, what do you think she's going to say and do? To her, we'd probably just appear to be a group of drunken teenagers hell-bent on disturbing the peace. After all, Team Rocket may not have the best reputation, but with idiots like Jessie, James, and Meowth in there, it's easy to see how they've never been implicated in a murder before," May added.

"So you agree with Ash and Misty, then, May?" Brock asked her, and he seemed put off at the younger three travelers close-mindedness, "Maybe it's just me that feels we're stupid if we run face-first into this, then. . ."

"Probably."

"Most likely."

"Yep."

Brock growled in frustration, "You guys are just acting cocky and selfish! May, you're only thirteen years old! How would you feel if you died and never got to see your parents again? How do you think they'd feel? And, Misty, you've already been attacked personally two times, neither of which you were supposed to survive! You got a couple of lucky breaks and suddenly everything's just an immature, childish adventure to you! And Ash. . . !" Brock broke off momentarily here in order to catch his breath, "Not only would your mother kill all of us if we survived this and she found out, but. . . but I saw your reaction to how bad Misty was put off the day she came back! Don't make light of how much she went through, damnit! If Team Rocket can do that much to her out in the open when any number of trainers can be a matter of feet away, then imagine what they're capable of within their own territory! Or don't you care what happens to everyone?"

"O-of course I do!" Ash stated, and he seemed slightly red in the face, although no one could really tell if it was out of anger or embarrassment at Brock's words, "But, like I said, nothing's going to stop her doing this, okay? We all know how stubborn Misty can be, and if she's gotten this far, then I don't think she plans on stopping and letting it go anytime soon! And, well, how would you feel if we just let her go off on her own; huh?" He seemed pleased at having turned the tables on his friends, who was looking less then perfectly calm.

Brock said nothing and, though she found this conversation very interesting, Misty couldn't help wanting to steer it in another direction.

"Hey! Don't call me stubborn, Mr. Pokemon Master! And. . . what's this reaction you had that I'm suddenly hearing about? Huh. . . ?" Misty prodded Ash in the shoulder with a sly expression on her face and nearly broke out into laughter when he flushed bright crimson.

". . . It. . . thing. . ." He muttered so that even she couldn't understand him.

"What was that?" She asked him.

"I said that it was nothing, okay!" Ash shouted, just in time to hear a knock on the door before it opened up in time to reveal a slightly shell-shocked Nurse Joy.

"I heard yelling; are you three okay?" She looked all of them in the eye as she said this, willing them not to lie to her.

"We're just fine, my lovely Joy, but you must forgive my friends for their callous tones! Please allow my to teach them the respect that you deserve, and then, I'd love for you to accompany me on a date during which I'll act the perfect gentleman – ow, ow, ow!" Brock finished in a howl as Misty dragged him off by the ear.

"Alright, Mr. Perfect Gentleman, cut the lines and act your age for once. . ." Misty growled, and she pulled him him away so that Nurse Joy could shut the door and get back to work.

"You're so cruel, Misty. . ." Brock sobbed at the thought of another of his lost loves walking out of his life without giving him their phone number.

"Glad to have you back," Ash and May smiled gratefully as she ended another term of her civic duty to prevent Brock from carrying through with his womanizing.

"Mm hmm," Misty grinned back, "So, now what do we do? Take a vote about which way to go with this?"

"That'd probably be easiest. . ." Brock recovered and stated, "All in favor of relying on Officer Jenny and the authorities to help us out with this?" He hurriedly raised his hand into the air, but, glancing at the others, he noticed that no one else was joining him. Lowering his arm again, he sighed and continued, "All in favor of keeping all of this a secret and attempting to take down Giovanni on our own. . . ?" He seemed to know what was coming and, sure enough, all three of his friends now held up their hands. Seeing that there was nothing he could do, Brock slowly forced his own hand back into the air again, ". . .It's settled. We'll just have to see how far we can go on our own, then." He ended with determination.

The group resolved themselves to leaving the next day and went about gathering supplies and food and battling for money so that they could be prepared for the long trip ahead. Because of Misty's taking her time to recover, she and May had decided to go on their ultra-super-fun-time shopping trip the next day, a few hours before their departure from Rustboro.

But, for now, there was something else on Misty's mind. Ever since the discussion she and her friends had had earlier that morning, in which Brock had let out some interesting news about Ash, the raven-haired Master-in-training had been avoiding her. He'd even shown up late to lunch just to evade talking to her. As Misty sat in the room everyone was sharing and began to pack her things, she couldn't help being distracted with wonder at why Ash was behaving the way he was.

In her stupor, she managed to notice that she dropped some anonymous item and bent down to pick it up. There was the sudden 'whoosh' of a door opening and, quite jumpy, Misty ended up knocking her head roughly against the bedstead and alerting whoever was behind her to her presence.

"Oh," croaked Ash almost shyly from behind her, "I. . . I thought that you'd be out with May. . ." It was obvious that he'd been hoping for the room to be empty so that he could continue ignoring her in peace, "Well, I'll just come back later. I need to pick Pikachu up from Nurse Joy anyway," and he turned to leave in a rush.

"Wait, Ash!" Misty called out to him, and he stopped and turned stiffly to face her, "I just wanted to know if. . . if you're mad at me or something."

He blinked, not expecting this, and scratched his head in confusion, giving an airy laugh that betrayed his uneasiness.

"Of course not, Misty! Why would you think that?"

"Well, I did sort of laugh at you when Brock mentioned how you'd responded to seeing me all hurt the day I came back, and I thought maybe you took me a bit seriously. . ." She looked down at her feet, ". . .I thought I did something wrong. . ." Her tone was slightly hurt, ". . .Because you've barely talked to me since the night I returned home, you know?"

"I-I'm sorry, Misty. I guess I've just had something on my mind. I mean, it's great to see you again. . . but this wasn't how I expected our next meeting to take place after you left us the last time. And. . . Brock was right; and May too, if she's gossiped to you about this like I think she has. I won't deny it," he gulped as though about to take a large plunge, "I was so worried about you that night. When I saw you being carried off by Team Rocket and after May's Ivysaur set you on the ground, I. . . It almost hurt to breathe, my heart was beating so fast."

Misty suddenly found the room very hot as she noticed that Ash had somehow moved from his place beside the door, all the way across the bare stretch of carpet to her front. Her own breath was suddenly stilled at the look in his eyes; she'd never seen that in him before, never known that he could look into and through her so thoroughly.

She tried to speak but any words she'd been meaning to say to him were blown clear from her mind as her face was suddenly buried softly against his chest. His arms snaked around her back and held her to him as he leant down, his chin pressed lightly against her shoulder-blade. All of this seemed to happen over an eternity of time, but Misty couldn't seem to move. All she could do was stand there as Ash's embrace grew only tighter. And then, in the depths of that blankly wonderful moment that the two teenagers had found themselves in, Ash spoke so that only she could hear him.

"I'm sorry that I let you down back there. I should have been there to help you. Just know that the only thing that makes all of that bearable is that. . . You're alive, and okay, and here with me now."

His statement nearly brought tears to her eyes, but then, the next thing Misty knew, she was standing next to the bed upon which her bag of Pokeballs sat in an otherwise empty room, staring at what she could have sworn had been an open door not more than two seconds ago.

OoO

It was almost noon the next day and Misty and May were to be currently found eating a slightly early lunch in a small diner and talking about those silly things that seem to commonly plague teenage girls minds. While May sat across from her, talking about some boy named Drew in a half-exasperated and half-admiring tone, Misty's thoughts slowly began to mull over once again on the subject they'd been frequently turning to ever since yesterday evening; that strange dream-like meeting with Ash.

She couldn't even distinguish it as a dream or reality at this point. After he'd gone, or she'd woken up, or whatever had happened, Misty couldn't help wondering if it had all been some beautiful illusion her mind had cooked up over the worries that Ash was angry and avoiding her for some reason, because he was still persisting to do so.

Then again, that didn't necessarily rule out that those few moments had been real. After all, if she'd gone up to him and apologized and hugged him, and confessed something on the brink of intimate worry and affection. . . well. . . the least she would be is embarrassed.

But she had nothing else to take in, to help her decide if it was all true or not. All she had were those words. . . And the possibility of his lingering grasp as his arms held her to him. . .

". . .Don't you think so, Misty?" May's quip broke the redhead out of her reverie.

"I. . . think so? Could you repeat that?"

"I said that he's always so annoying, acting all self-righteous and cocky. It's too infuriating for words, even if he is mature and a good coordinator, and a strong rival, and just a bit cute. . ."

"Oh. . . Uh huh," but her thoughts were on someone completely different from whoever May was talking about, "You mean that Drew you mentioned earlier, right?"

"Oh, er. . . We should go, then; and let's take the park pathway to the mall, okay? It's always so nice and quiet. . ." May seemed to realize that she'd said something embarrassing and so she rushed Misty to the cash register with their receipt and the two girls paid for their meals, exited the restaurant, and continued walking down the street with their bags strung over their shoulder and strapped to their waist.

Ten minutes later, they were traveling slowly through the town park, which was, as May had said, nice and quiet. The sun shone bright and warm above them and the greenery was vibrant in the prime of summer growth. The only thing that upset Misty for some reason was the lack of other people walking around and interacting. She knew that most people would be at work, but. . . What about parents or nurses with infants and young children, or the frozen treats man who usually towed his cart around town right about now. . . ?

May seemed to notice something was wrong too, because she gathered close to Misty's side and drew a Pokeball, pressing the button on its center to enlarge it. Misty did the same, and the two girls began to quicken their step, but all too soon, the familiar stench of danger brought their attention to a group of strangers hidden around them.

"May, listen to me. . ." Misty murmured, and the younger girl looked in her direction for a split second and gave a brief nod, "I know you won't leave me to fight on my own, so. . . well. . . we'll do this together. But if they hit you, which I'm sure they'll try to do as it's me they're after, just lay down and play dead, okay? Don't give me that look--!" Misty's voice raised ever so slightly as May opened her mouth to argue, "If you fight and fight and they end up killing you and taking me, then you're just. . . dead. But if you live, even if they do take me, you can hurry back to Ash and Brock and tell them what happened, okay?" She let out a quaking breath as the sky began to grow suddenly dark and cloudy and strange silhouettes flitted around the two girls, "Promise me, please. . . ?"

"I. . ." May's jaw didn't seem to want to move and form words.

"Promise me!" Misty shouted just in time for a blast of water to send her flying backwards. Somehow she still managed to stay on her feet, and she ran back to where she'd formerly been, throwing the Pokeball she was holding, "Seadra! Go! Use _Hydro Pump_!" There was a flash of red light and the small but fierce looking Pokemon appeared before her, letting out a strong spurt of water in every direction and causing five uniformed men and women to envision themselves quite suddenly.

"Go. . . Blaizekin! _Double Team_ and then _Fire Spin_!" May shouted and she took a chance to look at Misty, ". . .Fine, I'll do what you said. But let's just hope that it doesn't come down to that. . . !" She grunted as she saw her Pokemon take a hit and ordered him to attack again.

"_Smokescreen_, Seadra! Then use _Pin Missle_!"

The burst of smoke caused a couple of shouts and disturbances from beyond their view, but a few seconds later, a man's dull figure rose into visibility and he seemed to be walking towards them. Then he raised his arm and, his eyes turning blue in accordance to another anonymous creature beside him, still obscured, snapped his fingers. Almost immediately, a series of invisible-like threads circled around the smog that Seadra had produced, whipping it high into the air and onto a equally invisible spindle. And then it simply vanished. Finally, Misty and May were able to see exactly what they were facing at the time.

The man from before was standing next to an Alakazam and, behind them, an army of other Pokemon stood awaiting the commands of the trainers. But the trainers in questions seemed to be completely silent, almost like the last thing on their minds was the battle before them.

"We are an elite team dispatched by Giovanni to secure Misty Waterflower, also known as Aurora Williams. It is your fathers wish," and he his gaze swung entirely upon Misty, who couldn't help staring back, "that you meet him at once to discuss his plans for you. It'd be best if you were to come quietly, however, if you resist, we will not wait to take you by force; we can only hope that your friend doesn't get hurt in the process."

Misty looked at May, who stared defiantly back, ready to do next to anything over than give in or retreat. Then the redhead turned her gaze back to the group of strangers before her.

"Gee, it's a nice offer, but I don't think that either of us is ready to just hand ourselves over to you."

"Hmm, then, most unfortunately, we must do battle; Alakazam, use Confusion." The man nodded calmly towards May and Blaizekin. She panicked slightly and tried to think of a combination to counter the telekinetic attack, but was obviously having some difficulty.

"Return Seadra! Go. . . Gyarados!" Misty shouted, "Use _Whirlpool_, and then _Waterfall_! You, Blaizekin, make sure to keep your trainer out of harms way!" She finished and, reproducing another _Double Team_, Blaizekin picked May up into his arms and used Agility to move about, evading any Psychic blasts.

Meanwhile, Gyarados' Whirlpool had closed in on the Psychic opponent and collided with him. While Alakazam tried to find a way out, the giant serpent bashed into him head-first and threw him backwards; and then he gave a roar of triumph. . . Only, too soon.

"Alakazam; recover. As for you, while I might not expect any less of Giovanni's daughter, I believe I challenged the other girl to a battle. You might do well against my comrade."

Misty, stung by his comment, retaliated.

"Hey, you're a part of Team Rocket, aren't you! I'd have though you loved my dad's way of working!"

"You misunderstand. We are not members of your father's organization. He merely hired us to do the job that your past offenders have failed to complete. We don't agree with his ways. . . Nevertheless, he is our client, and whatever it takes, we will not fail him. Now, back on track, I have chosen to fight your friend, and my associate has chosen to fight you." He nodded towards the woman to his right, who stepped forward, still staring blankly ahead. Alongside her stood a terrifyingly large Feraligatr.

"Fine; alright," Misty replied bitingly, "May, do you think you can handle him. . . ?" May, who looked more than a bit shaken, nodded numbly, "Okay, let's get this started, then. . . !"

"The battle is one-on-one; the prize, should the girls win, will be their freedom. If we win, which there's no doubt in my mind that we will, we shall have you, Miss Waterflower, and your friend's Pokemon. You both must face a separate trial, so you both must pay a separate price. . . And Giovanni wants all Pokemon left over afterwards."

Misty and May groaned, but nodded their approval of the terms. Misty noticed that May, though still trying to look brave, was having trouble breathing properly.

"Battle, start!"

"Blaizekin, _Agility_ and _Low Kick_! Then, _Double-Team_ and _Flame-Thrower_!"

"Alakazam, _Barrier_! _Psybeam_, and then, when he's down, use _Hypnosis_!"

May gasped, not sure how to defend her Pokemon from its own weakness towards sleep. The _Low Kick_ she'd pressed on had made full contact but the Psychic Pokemon seemed to be so powerful that it didn't matter. Before her Pokemon could carry through with his second attack combo, however, the _Psybeam_ waves collided with him, sending him backwards. Blaizekin shook off the lingering impact and attempted to ride his wave out a second time, and evading the effect of the _Hypnosis_. . .

Meanwhile, on Misty's side of the battlefield, Gyarados was holding his own pretty well against the Feraligfatr, but that might have had to do with the fact that the gator-type Pokemon only seemed to be using techniques of the water variety. They never really seemed to be hurting her partner, but they did push Gyarados back a bit each time he was hit. Misty, although she prided herself on offensive maneuverability, did happen to notice a strategy when she saw one. However, as she had yet to comprehend what that strategy was, she couldn't counter it with anything full-proof of her own.

"Feraligatr, use _Hydro Pump_!"

"Oh, enough of that! Gyarados, use _Rain Dance_, then close in and use _Hyper Beam_!" Misty looked at her opponents face to see her expression. She expected something like fear; or maybe frustration, or worry. . . But all she got was the smallest of smiles.

She barely had time to think it over when she realized that her Pokemon, while trying to advance forward, was only getting slowly shoved further backwards; nevertheless, the _Hyper Beam_ was already being charged from within its scaly mouth. Feraligatr wasn't moving, and only continued to blast tides of clear water at Gyarados, who was still being backed away, ever slowly, into the. . .

. . .And suddenly the plan that her adversary was using, however simple or prodigious it might have been, made itself clear to her. . . But did she have a chance to stop it? Misty didn't know, but she had to try. . .

"Gyarados, don't fire that _Hyper Beam_! Stop!" But it was too late; he already had. The flaring rainbow of raw power sped towards the Feraligatr. . .

. . .Just as Blaizekin, almost completely worn out, skidded to a halt besides May, who seemed to be facing something of her own inner terror. Blaizekin awaited her command, having just initiated a _Slash_ attack on Alakazam, who was already recovering again.

May could barely feel the toll of her legs shaking slightly; she knew that, no matter what she tried to do, the battle was already lost. . . She'd never had a chance at victory, not with an opponent such as the one she was facing. It was done; she was finished.

But this hopeless demeanor had to be shaken. Near loss or not, she couldn't let Misty down! She couldn't let her Pokemon down! She couldn't let herself down! And suddenly, May felt a tiny quiver of faith and strength soar rapidly within her. She didn't have Ash to help guide her in this; she didn't have her family to cheer her on. All she had was her Pokemon and Misty, all of which were counting on her.

"Blaizekin, I'm ordering you – do not waste your time on preventing me from me getting hurt! I want you to set all of your sights on fighting Alakazam! I can defend myself!" She took a deep breath and a sturdy step forward, "Now go ahead! _Quick Attack_! _Ember_! Dodge those!" May's tone was suddenly ferocious as she conducted Blaizekin's movement so that he made his way at Alakazam while steadily evading any of the Pokemon's Psychic-based defense, "Now, _Double Team_ again, _Agility_, and circle him!" Blaizekin did so and May's face shown with a slight grin of confidence, "_Fire Punch_! _Quick Attack_! _Low Kick_! And keep circling! Repeat those attacks! Keep using _Agility_!"

The fire-type Pokemon's slams, punches, and kicks simultaneously rammed into Alakazam, knocking him around this way and that and giving next-to-no time for him to retaliate. By now, Blaizekin was nothing but a flashing blur as he continued roving and weaving around his opponent.

"Now, close in with _Fire Blast_!"

"Alakazam. . . _Teleport_," said an annoyingly calm voice from beyond the fire, and Alakazam flickered steadily out of sight, leaving Blaizekin to rush into an empty area, fully-powered.

Alakazam appeared quite suddenly behind May's Pokemon and turned to face him, his eyes glowing blue.

"_Psychic_," the trainer murmured softly.

. . . And the Feraligatr put on a burst of speed and leapt out of the way as the Hyper Beam blasted its way to the ground at his feet. The recoil sent Gyarados tumbling backwards just to the edge of the pathway, so that rogue branches and brambles cracked against his firm backside and made him moan in pain.

"No, Gyarados!" Misty ran forward to help her Pokemon, but the Feraligatr found his way between them. It growled menacingly at her as Gyarados attempted to relieve himself from the burden of catching himself in the lengths of greenery.

"You may not interfere," the woman across from her stated simply, "Do not manipulate the Pokemon and their strengths and weaknesses. Complete the battle."

"I. . ." Misty turned to look at her Pokemon, which was currently licking his wounds and repeatedly flinching as it tried to reach his fullest height. She stood back again and attempted to think of a new attack phase.

"Feraligatr, _Body Slam_."

"No! Wait!"

"Silly girl, what true adversary waits for you to come up with a plan?" The woman asked her and, for the first time, there was something comical in her tone as their Pokemon hurtled themselves deep into the brush, Gyarados first, and disappeared for a moment, "I think that the battle is almost over," the trees shook slightly and both Pokemon reappeared, grappling at one another and gnashing their teeth.

Gyarados was, in lame-mans terms, bloodied up. After twice being shoved into the filthy and rough terrain off of the pathway, and then being bitten and clawed in several placed by his opponent, he looked weary with fatigue and quite pained. Even as he continued to fight, he was swiftly losing his footing and accuracy in the battle.

Misty wanted to give up. She wanted to declare her loss and take her punishment as she'd agreed to in the beginning. But. . . she just couldn't lose. She couldn't afford to call Gyarados back and admit defeat because. . . it would just be the end of. . . everything. However,what was there to do? She had nothing else. . . And it was taking all of her sanity to watch as her Pokemon continued to hurt. . . to fade. . .

"Feraligatr, it's time to end this! Use _Bite_ and then _Slash_."

"Gyarados, use _Barrier_. . . !"

But that was it.

Gyarados let out one final roar as the gator-like Pokemon ran his claws roughly across the scaly length right below his mouth, drawing more blood. Then the giant serpant fell backward onto the ground and lay almost completely still.

In fact, the only thin that could have been reacting less was Misty's heart, which felt as though it'd stopped as she bowed her head and slowly raised her arm to call Gyarados back. It was over. . . ? She'd lost?

Almost immediately, she was surrounded by the strangers and their Pokemon from before. She managed to keep hold of her bag of Pokeballs and other things, but she knew that there was no way she'd be able to take all of them down, no matter what she tried to do. And then she heard the scream.

"No; I won't let you do! Not my Pokemon! Not Blaizekin! Misty, please, don't let them!" That was when May took a moment to glance at Misty's condition, "No, Misty! Oh. . . !" And she made a point to try and run over to help her friend out, holding Blaizekin's Pokeball in her hands.

Misty didn't have a chance to tell May to back off, to tell her they'd lost and to remind her of her promise to lay down and play it off, when there was a bright blue light from the side of the younger girl and, looking shocked, she was thrust straight into the trunk of a great oak tree, which crippled slightly from the impact. She hit the ground and remained there, motionless, and Misty, terrified, could only wonder if the Petalburg girl was faking it.

"May? May! Wake up! Er, twitch! Do something!" Forgetting herself, Misty tried to get some reaction from the girl, but it was no good.

The man stepped forward with his Alakazam at his side. He leant down and pulled May's phanny-pack from her waist, removing the five loose (and occupied) Pokeballs from within and taking hold of the enlarged one that'd fallen from her hand. May continued to lay there and didn't seem to even think of fighting to get her Pokemon back.

"Why did you do that!" Misty yelled furiously, trying to break free of the hold she was currently being gripped at, but finding it highly difficult. The man looked intently at her as she made his way to them all, and his colleagues continued to call back their own Pokemon and place the Pokeballs out of sight.

"The girl attempted to get in the way. I told her, and you, that she was liable to get hurt if she tried to stop us from reaching our goal," the man said, now refusing to look her in the eye, "She will feel it when she wakes up, but she is alive."

Misty, who'd been just thinking of threatening the man if May's life had been put in danger by the hit, looked at him with a sudden sense of dawning comprehension.

". . .You're a psychic, aren't you. . . ?"

"If you're willing to ask that question, then you must know already. It's not something that gets thrown out into the open that often.

"If you are, then you must know what I'm going to be facing after you leave me with Him. You said that you don't agree with him and his tactics. Even if he is your client, how can you live with yourself? You must know what he's like, what he's planning to do. . . to the entire world. . ." Misty tried to reason with the man before her, but the next time he glanced at her, she knew it was useless.

"Are you that concerned about your fate, and that of your friends?" When she didn't reply, he continued speaking, "You don't have to worry. You won't be forced to suffer for long."

And then, his and Alakazam's eyes glowed blue again and Misty, still being restrained, felt some estranged flying tug from all around her body, as though the wind around her was picking her up into the air.

There was a flash and the whole lot of them were gone, leaving May slumped unconscious on the ground.

OoOoO

**Notes** – WooT! Yea! After about six months of writing up this chapter and two months typing it up, I'm very pleased with the way it worked out! I'm uber-proud of my work this time around, actually, unlike the last two parts. I have a feeling that, if continued, this can only be an omen of good things to come. Er. . . They won't all be good, mind you, but. . . well, I'll save it for the spoilers.

Oh, and to the Pokeshippers, a bit of good news. As of late – or later than I'd originally planned – I've decided to make this fic a complete AAMR, and not just an adventurous thing with bits and pieces of romance. I guess it was only a matter of time, really, but I've finally found the place to put in the lovely lil' hints, and the confession. Heh, heh, heh. . . I've already told a couple of close friends about how I plan to do it and they were pretty pleased, so you shouldn't have to worry.

Oh, also, I gave this warning in chapter five of Blind (my current Harry Potter fic), but I might as well say it here, too. . . I'm currently hoping to get a job, school will be starting at the end of the month, and my mom has just been placed in the hospital for a rabid-serious surgery (among other things) so I won't have a lot of extra time to update my fics. Sorry. But perhaps you all can prove your loyalty to me by making sure not to give up on Chibi as she words extra hard to survive. Yup, yup!

**Spoilers for Chapter Three** – (Hmm. . . I haven't really gotten that far yet. . . Lol. . .) May wakes up and alerts Ash and Brock to the fact that Misty is missing and the three of them attempt to think of a way to find her. Well, that is, after Ash goes insane and runs around town in the middle of a thunderstorm in hopes that she's still close-by. Anyway, they must travel to old familiar grounds only to find that their lead is destroyed. . . And then Misty appears, wearing a Team Rocket uniform and commanding them to turn over their Pokemon and come with her to her fathers head-quarters. And she doesn't seem to be joking. . .

OoO – Chibi – OoO


	4. Chapter Three

**Author **- Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon; if I did, Illicit Saints would be a feature film and the anime would be a little more adult and a little more Pokeshippy. No, wait. . . A lot more Pokeshippy. Lots more; yup. But I don't, so it doesn't matter in any case.

**Notes **- Welcome one and all to the next part of Illicit Saints! Unfortunately, for those who were expecting everything that I'd given you in the spoiler / preview of the last chapter, it won't all be happening. I've decided that since, last time around, people actually started complaining that the chapter was too long (something that I never thought would happen; lol.), I was going to split this chapter up into two parts - two separate parts but still equally long in reference to all of the others that this fic is going to have. Yea. Did that make sense? Let's hope so. . . So, please enjoy what you're about to read, give me a nice lil' review at the end that doesn't comment on how many months you lay tortured and restless because Chibi's work is the only thing that makes a web connection worth it, and stay a fan throughout the end of this fic (which probably won't be finished until next year, at this rate). . .

**Dedication **- I suppose I should dedicate this chapter to anyone and everyone who will spend their time reading and reviewing it, as it's been way too long since I last updated and I feel that anyone who's been waiting for me to come back deserves it.

OoO

**Characters **/ **Ages **-

**Misty **/ **17**

**Ash **/ **16**

**Brock **/ **20**

**May **/ **13**

**Jessie **/ **22**

**James **/ **22**

OoO

**Pokemon - Illicit Saints**

Chapter Three

OoOoO

It wasn't long after Misty and the group of kidnappers-for-hire left that May groaned in her place, heaped against the edge of the pathway of Rustboro park. First it was just the twitch of her fingers as she tried to remember how she'd ended up that way, and then she slowly raised her head and stared dully at the empty area before her. . . And then it all clicked.

Quickly stumbling to her feet, May cupped her hands to her mouth and let out a yell, "Mis-ty!" But there seemed to be no response. Then, as an affect caused by her leaping up so fast, she doubled over in pain and tried to inspect the damage her flying into the tree earlier had caused. She couldn't even apply pressure to her back without feeling the immense pain of all of the splinters, cuts, bruising. She slowly turned to see the tree she'd been forced into and cursed at the knowledge that a whole layer of bark had been shaved from the trunk, "Ow. . . ! Oh, I - I've gotta get back. . ."

She began taking small steps towards the Southside entrance of the park, sighing as her clothes stretched and retracted against her back. Whimpering, she didn't realize that something else might have been wrong until a small pouch fell from the open pocket of her fanny-pack and onto the ground. She turned and saw it was her small bag of empty Pokeballs and then it dawned on her. . .

She hurriedly unclipped the fanny-pack from her waist and checked inside it, already knowing exactly why it'd been open and what she'd be missing. Sure enough, all of her Pokemon were gone. . . All of them; her friends and partners. . .

The fifteen minute walk (to be extended, thanks to her injuries) was not to be finished without tears, and when she finally reached the sliding doors of the Center and found her way inside, the first thing she saw were the impatient expressions on her two friends' faces.

"Hey, May! What took you two so long? We need to get going! Nurse Joy's ready to give your Pokemon one last quick check-up before we leave, and Misty's too, once she has the courtesy to walk inside," Ash said as fast as possible, and then he noticed how May was limping, "What's wrong with you? Are you okay?" He and Brock rushed forward to help her into a seat and it seemed to visibly dawn on Ash moments later that Misty had yet to show herself, ". . . Where. . . where is she. . . ? May? Did Misty say she was going somewhere? Please say that she told you that she was going somewhere. . ."

"Nurse Joy; May's injured and she needs some antiseptic and bandaging!" Brock shouted, refraining from his hormonal surges so that the female attendant could get through and proceed to heal the young girl, who was, by now, exhausted from the strenuous walk from the park.

"May, you can't fall asleep yet! We need to know; where's Misty? Is she hurt? Did you leave her somewhere. . . ?" Ash's tone was just slightly less than terrorized as he shook his friend by the shoulders to ensure that she stayed awake.

May shook her head and let out a small whimper as Nurse Joy began to remove the splinters from her back, and then she looked up at everyone and shook her head again, opening her mouth to say something, to explain, but finding it suddenly too parch to speak. Finally, after swallowing countless times, she managed to mutter.

"Team Rocket. . . took my Pokemon. Misty and I. . . lost a Pokemon battle. . . to them. . . They won. . . my Pokemon. . . and her. They got her. . . I'm sorry, Ash. We tried our hardest. . . but they were so strong. . . !" May could only continue to apologize repeatedly in a low tone but when she looked up again, Ash had disappeared, "Where. . . ?"

"He went to look for her. . ." Brock whispered, also just noticing that Ash had gone.

"It'll. . . be useless. . . The leader of the group. . . had an Alakazam. . . And I know he knew Teleport. . . They've probably traveled hundreds or thousands of miles by now. . . Ash doesn't have a chance of finding them by just wandering around town and yelling her name. . ."

"Maybe not, but he doesn't have anything else to do. And he cares for Misty so much that just sitting here and talking about how useless it is to even try to find her is out of the question. He'll be gone for awhile," Brock said to himself, noticing that the dark thundering skies that'd come to be earlier had now led to rain. He glanced down at May again just in time to see her duck her head as new tears began to produce themselves, "Don't cry, May. . . C'mon, it won't do you any good. . ."

"Y-yea, well, maybe it makes me feel just a little bit better. . . ! I tried! I tried so hard to keep her safe, to help her out! She told me that if I got attacked, I should just lay there and - and play it off! But, even when I was facing that, I tried to help her when those. . . people. . . had her surrounded. . . But I was rammed into that tree, and I was knocked out instantly. . . How could I have been so stupid!" May had never before looked so upset, "I was so idiotic, leaving my back turned on Alakazam, and I was so weak, being thrown unconscious so easily. . . And now Misty's gone and we have no idea how to find her again. . . ! And Ash is probably going to catch an pneumonia while out there in the storm trying to find her."

"Well, we'll just have to get out there and help him, or come up with another way to try and find where Misty is. . ."

Only, in the ten minutes afterward that Brock spent asking May questions about how it had happened; what part of the park they were in; what they had been told by the men and women who'd cornered them; any clues that might lead to finding out Misty's whereabouts, nothing of promise came to them. After relaying everything that she remembered to the breeder, May took a chance to breathe and close her eyes, while Brock put a rain jacket over his head and ran out the doors, hoping to locate Ash and check out the area Misty had been taken from. It was almost an hour later when they returned, Brock looking partially wet, but Ash looking as though he'd thrown himself over another cliff and into the ocean. They were deep in conversation, which ended abruptly when Ash realized just how drenched he was and disappeared into the public trainers restroom to dry himself off.

When he returned barely a few moments later, he didn't bother making eye contact with either of his friends and, with Pikachu clutching tightly onto his collar, made for the entrance of the Center again, but Brock stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"Brock, what are you doing? Oh, never mind. . ." Ash tried to get around his friend, but was faltered to a stop every way he turned, "You saw that place, too, didn't you? Where Misty was taken from? Just imagine what state she's in! I gotta go and find her! If you're that worried about me, then you can tag along all you want; I won't stop you, just--" And Ash broke off, pushing past the breeder, but Brock took hold of his hand and wouldn't let him go, "What the hell is this about. . . ? Let go of me!"

"Ash, I did see what was left of the park, but thinking of what information May's told us. . . It's not likely that Misty's anywhere near here, and that makes it useless to get ourselves sick with worry. . . You're going about this the wrong way is all I'm trying to say. . . That Alakazam that May battled against knew Teleport. They're long-gone by now, including Misty. . . They're probably in an entirely different city."

"Well then, I'm catching a ferry to those cities and turning over every Gerodude, Cloyster, and Snorlax. I'm. . . not going to let Misty down. . . I already can't help hating myself just a bit for our late entrance last time. . ."

Brock sighed to himself; of course, when it came to the ominous disappearance of any of his friends, Ash couldn't help but think irrationally. There was no way that he could so easily regain a clear head.

"Ash, really, running out there and exhausting yourself now won't help us any in the battle to get her back later on. We don't know where she is, what state she's in, or even if she's alive at all!" The final part of the statement left Ash open-mouthed, "For all we know, Giovanni wanted to see his daughter's death firsthand, or have a part in it! We don't know! So we'll just have to calm down and think about this for awhile. We'll probably find her faster that way. . . !" Brock said, and Ash stopped struggling against him and took a deep breath in resignation.

". . . Alright; fine. But I can't just sit here and--" He started as Nurse Joy walked away from a now half-asleep May, who was barely propping herself up in her seat as the attendant went to crouch behind her counter for some quick healing supplies, but there was a small pop, the sound of something hitting the counter and rolling to the floor, and the nurse let out a quick scream, which woke May up almost immediately.

"What is it, Nurse Joy?" May asked, cautiously reaching her feet and breathing a sigh of relief that something cool and tingly had been applied to her back awhile ago to minimize the pain. Ash and Brock ran forward as well, just as Nurse Joy picked herself up from the ground, holding onto the fallen object.

It was a Pokeball of some sort, but rather than the normal red-and-white dyed shell coloring, it was a bluish-green, with orange symmetrical stripes on the left and right sides. There was no mistaking that it was a Lure Ball.

"Hmm, that's strange. It's occupied, but I know this wasn't here before. . ." Nurse Joy glanced at the ceiling as though she expected to see a person hanging there, intent on bombing the Center with Pokeballs from the sky, "I can't imagine where it could have come from. . . Is it any of yours?" She glanced at the three of them, and her gaze lingered on Ash, who was looking suddenly comprehending.

"I know; it's Misty's!" He stated, and took hold of the Pokeball. Brock and May blinked at him as he held it out before him knowingly and then the two friends broke out into weak laughter, "Hey! What's so funny, you guys? Stop laughing and tell me. . . !"

"Well, Ash, Misty's a long way from here and she had all of her Pokemon with her the last time I checked, so how could this one get here so fast when she's nowhere around?" May asked, almost positive that Ash had lost his mind in hopes that Misty would send some type of signal as to where she was.

"Elementary, my dear May!" Ash noticed that everyone looked ready to place him in a straight-jacket, and so he quickly went on, "It was something I found when I was looking at Misty's Nav before! A Pokemon transfer system. Remember when I asked her if I could look at it for awhile? Whenever she wants, she can take her Pokemon and send them through the Nav to her home, Professor Birch's lab, or any Pokemon Center she's visited. She must have done that this time!" Though this explanation seemed plausible to everyone, they still looked slightly doubtful, but Ash seemed to be ignoring them as he danced around in glee, positive that he was right.

"Well," Brock said, snatching the Pokeball from Ash's hands, "There is one way to find out!" And he raised his arm to throw it, "Go. . . Pokeball!" There was the familiar flash of red light and Corsola appeared, shaking itself down from the long time he'd been trapped in the enclosed space, "Hmm. . ." Brock inspected the Pokemon closely and then said, "Are you Misty's Corsola?" The rock trainer prodded the water-type in the back for an answer and, in response, got a spurt of water in the face, "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that _that _was out of indignation. . ." Corsola nodded and bounced twice into the air out of excitement.

"I told you!" Ash exclaimed over joyously, and he began jumping around the room as well, "Now, May, all we need to do is look at the Navigational panel on your Nav and we can find Misty and hers! We could find her by tomorrow." He was trying not to look too pleased at the thought.

It turned out that it would take much longer than a day to get Misty back, however. When they had the chance to look at May's Nav, they were caught staring at the Hoenn map for almost ten minutes before they finally realized that Misty's Nav-signal wasn't apparent. Slightly confused and fairly worried, Brock switched over to the Jhoto map. . . But there was still nothing.

"Oh, please don't tell me. . ." And they quickly switched over the map again so that the word 'Kanto' displayed itself at the top of the screen. A small blinking signal shown to the left-center of the map and they knew they'd found her. . . in Viridian City. Two seconds later, her Nav icon faded out and they were staring at a completely blank screen.

"The only reason her icon would have vanished would be. . ." Ash started.

". . . That her Nav was destroyed. Now there's definitely no telling how she is, especially if they realized what she was doing when she sent Corsola to us," May ended in a slightly horrified whisper.

"So. . . What are we going to do?"

"Well, that's obvious! Misty's in Viridian City, which means that, once we buy a few tickets for the cross-region ferry, we'll be on our way there, too! I'm not going to wait any longer than necessary. . . ! 'Cause it's up to me - I mean, _us _- to make sure that she's okay!" Ash leapt into the air and grabbed hold of May and Brock's hands, dragging them across the Pokemon Center lobby and out of the front doors, "Now, let's go!"

The group proceeded down the pathway leading into town and entered the transportation bureau, heading towards the main consultation desk.

"Er, hello," Brock started after Ash had shoved him up front, "We'd like to know when the next ferry to Kanto region is, preferably the one to Pallet Port or Cerulean Bay," the man behind the counter was staring at them all so fiercely that Brock gulped and stuttered before continuing, "But the Vermillion Harbor is. . . you know. . . just fine."

"This is Rustboro City, kids, in case you haven't noticed," the man said irritably and Ash opened his mouth to argue about being called a child, but May placed her hand over it so that the receptionist could continue uninterrupted, "That means that we don't have a port, especially one leading out of the region. You'll have to take our town blimp to Littleroot and catch the ferry from there."

After Brock found out how much the tickets were and paid for them, and then was told that the next ride out of town would be two days later at nine a.m. (at which Ash began to shout very loudly again and May and Brock were forced to pull him by the scruff of his neck out of the building), the group slowly made their way back to the Center, resigned to the fact that they were going to have to wait another long while before they could even leave town. Well, Brock was. . . Actually, he seemed to be the only one who was able to handle the thought of their wait.

"This is nuts! No, it's even worse! It's life or death, and all they care about is keeping their mandatory flights on time! Argh, it's driving me crazy, thinking about how Misty might not even be. . . And I know it's useless to even think of getting any sleep tonight!" Ash shouted. Random people around them didn't bother to hide the fact that they were staring and May started up too.

"I know! But it doesn't matter to them that Misty's risking her life to keep them all safe!" Now the crowd of townspeople weren't only staring, but muttering as well. The cream May had been given seemed to have rid her of any fierce pain, and the fact that they had a relative idea of where Misty was and were soon to depart to find her (even if not soon enough) had filled her with an energy not possibly available an hour ago, "You know what? None of us will be able to get any shut-eye, and we've already stocked up on the supplies that we can afford. . . Those idiots back at the Transportation Center are so stupid and unaware that we should just steal that blimp! I mean, it's not like we wouldn't return it, and our use for it is much more important than theirs. . ." May's voice broke off into laughter to show that she was just joking.

Brock and Ash joined in, but they were both half-hearted about it, and the three of them had stopped moving because their attention was now fully on the topic at hand.

"You know, May, you make a valid point. We're trustworthy, and it can't be that hard to fly a blimp; and Misty's much more worth using it for than getting the yearly tourists out of Rustboro. I don't see a problem with it, really; we might. . ."

"You don't see a problem with it? What world are you living in, Ash? 'Cause, from where I'm standing, we could get caught by the authorities and quite possibly thrown in jail; plus, as you said, we don't even know how to fly it to begin with, so we'd probably end up killing ourselves before anything else. . . And, again, your mom - not to mention May's parents - would kill all of us if they found out about it!" Brock shouted.

"B-but, Brock, it's for _Misty_. . ." Ash and May emphasized in chorus.

"Guys, stop it. Just listen to me and really think about it for a moment. Misty was kidnapped almost five hours ago and most-likely instantly transported to her father, whose already sent a good number of people out here to kill her. We've had no contact with her, and the only thing that tied us to her before has been destroyed. I know you like to think on the bright side of things, but, for once, stop deluding yourselves." Brock sighed deeply and, when next he spoke, it was very slowly and clearly, "There's a good chance that she's dead, and it's likely that we could be walking straight into a trap by flying into all of that unknown territory."

"Brock! Stop being so safe or you'll force us into going after her on our own, leaving you to watch your hair turn gray in worry! Yeah, we've looked at the possibility that she's already dead, but we didn't like it, so we're choosing to believe that Giovanni kidnapped her for more reason than to just watch her die, and we're hoping that she's well. . . or else Team Rocket will regret it." Ash clenched his fist tightly as he said this, "Either way, we have to decide. . ."

"Well, I was just joking when I said that first-off, but I suppose, It's not that bad of an idea. I mean, other than the legal technicalities, of course." May spoke up, "I dunno; if she's dead or alive, the only way we'll know is if we get to Viridian as soon as possible and find out for ourselves. Otherwise, we'll just go insane wondering. If stealing a blimp in the dead of night while security is low and the fuel tank is fresh for the next scheduled journey is what it takes, then I don't see what should stop us."

"Well, you two can concoct all of the illegal plans you want, Just so you know, I won't be a part of any of it." Brock huffed.

OoO

Misty yelped as she was thrown into an uncomfortable stool in what appeared to be a lobby in the back of Viridian City's Pokemon Gym. To her left was the door leading to the main gym, to the right, another door that she could only assume led to Giovanni's office, and in front of her was a desk where a female Rocket sat, staring intently at her with a pair of steely eyes and making her feel very uneasy. Misty attempted to stare around the room to get those gray-glowing orbs out of her mind, but found it very difficult, as her surroundings were very plain.

Her heart beat painfully at the thought of what she was facing. Beyond the left-handed door, an army of Rockets awaited her if she dared to try and escape (which she didn't, as they'd already taken all of her Pokemon) and on the right-handed door. . . well. . . she could only imagine.

To give herself something to do, she began prodding at the moth-eaten cushion below her, counting the seconds and the minutes until she'd see Him. The man who bore her. . . Soon, her thoughts stopped to be replaced by a blissfully dull buzzing. And then a simple black phone she hadn't noticed before rang from its place next to the dry-eyed woman across from her, and that woman picked it up and gave a few words into the mouth-piece, still staring at Misty as though she were performing some rather interesting magic tricks.

"Alright; I'll send her, then."

And the woman hung up, reached her feet, and walked up to Misty.

"You've been requested. Giovanni will see you now."

It was like having a horrible cavity that couldn't have been filled over the last decade, and now she'd just been told that she'd have to get a root-canal. And, among quite a few other painful things, Misty hated root-canals.

The woman escorted Misty to the door on the right and opened it. Misty gulped, expecting to see Him, but. . . there was barely room enough for a desk in this place, and no windows. The woman shoved Misty inside, took off one of her gloves, and pressed her palm to a hand-sized bare white pan on the wall. It blinked green for a moment and she replaced her glove and shut the door and said in a loud and clear voice, "Basement, fourth floor," and the elevator began moving downward.

After a few seconds, Misty became aware that she was now going underground. The elevator shuttered slightly as it went and she looked around to see if there was something that told her what floor they were on and how fast they were going, but there was nothing, so when there was a 'ping!' out of thin air and the woman opened the door, Misty couldn't help feeling that the trip had been not nearly as long as she'd have liked.

Outside, the woman shut the door and led Misty past two guards in black uniforms and along a narrow hallway, passed a few doors behind which Misty could only assume held many ugly and evil things. The floor and walls, unlike the stone-flagged prison she'd been expecting, were linoleum and plaster, very similar to a corporate office building. It smelt mostly of bleach and disinfectant, and there was the most annoying ticking of a clock from nowhere as the two women approached the final door straight in front of them and it opened automatically upon their closing in.

"Enter here," the older woman told Misty, and she turned alone to walk back upstairs to her post.

Misty very slowly and cautiously walked inside.

It was a very spick-and-span place, wide-roomed, with nothing but a few potted plants, a single desk, and, behind it, a comfy computer chair, turned to face three very large windows, all of which showed clear blue skies and gave off the effect of a lovely summer day. Because they were probably twenty to forty feet under the surface of the Earth, she knew that the area she was watching had been created artificially. Suddenly, the periwinkle blueness from beyond the room vanished as though it'd been switched off with a light-switch and the chair swiveled around to face her with its occupant.

"_Sunny Day_; marvelous technique, that one." Were the first words from his mouth and all Misty could do was blink, "Anyways, sit down, go on. Can I have my men get you anything? Water, food, fresh clothes? No? Well, then. . . Hello, Aurora; I'm your father, Giovanni, and I've been waiting quite awhile to meet you." He gave a strangely in-control smile and held out his hand for her to shake it, but she just glared at him, "Ah, I see. . . You're a bit sore about the circumstances, perhaps? Understandable. . ."

"What do you want from me, Giovanni? And call me Misty; everyone does."

"Even so, Misty is not your birth name, nor is it appropriately legal," Giovanni gave a chilling grunt to clear his throat as he turned back to his desk and sat in his chair, "Aurora, since you're so willing to skip the introductions, I'll go on; I've got an offer for you. . ." His hand flicked to his desk and he reached into a drawer to pull out a small piece of paper, ". . . As you are well-aware, I am the leader of the great organization known as Team Rocket." Possibly, he wanted Misty to cheer for his achievement, or maybe to look overcome with surprise, but as she wasn't very willing to show any type of emotion, he went on after barely five seconds of silence, "Well, I want to recruit you."

Misty snorted, "You must be crazy. You killed my mom and sent a million troops after me over the years to finish me off, too. . . And now you want me to join in your little circus act? Not in a million years, _daddy_. You'll just have to kill me, I guess." But she didn't want to die! God, why did she speak without thinking so often. . . ?

"Hmm. . . See, that would be inconvenient for me. After all, I need someone to take over this. . . position. . . after my retirement, and you're the only next-of-kin I have. . . At least, that I know of." He gave the first hint of a maniacal smirk, "Low and behold, I need you right now, and I have ways of making you accept my offer. . ." And, with that, he held up the small item he'd pulled out of his desk before and slid it across the surface so that she could see it properly.

It was a Polaroid of Ash, May, and Brock. While she continued to gaze, horrified, at it, Giovanni chose to take his time in removing another something from his desk. After snapping the drawer shut, he shook Misty from her reverie. She looked up in time to see him crack open a single lock and pop open the top of a small black box, grasping in his hand a diminutive needle of clear liquid.

"You should know of the 'EAB', as it was dubbed upon creation, but I doubt you know what it stands for. The 'EAB' is also known as the Electro-Acidic-Bullet. When you are injured by it, a paralysis shock courses through your bloodstream, slowing the intake of oxygen and blood to your heart and body, then the acid enters and takes effect, dissolving your organs and destroying you from the inside out. Of course, the bullet itself drains the blue and red blood from your body, killing you in any case. It takes a very strong, tolerant person to survive that for more than a couple of minutes. I'm sure that your mother lasted almost fifteen; she was always so willful," Giovanni gave another smirk, "Well, almost always. . . The point is, this injection contains a small dosage of the acid used in the EAB. I feed this into your friends bloodstreams, and they die almost instantly; guaranteed. It will only take so much time to subdue them, and I can easily allow you a front-row seat to their last moments. . ." He breathed deeply, as though watching people suffer was what made it worth waking up in the morning, "That is, of course, unless you join under my leadership. As my daughter, I can assure you that there will be a few perks, but you must swear your complete loyalty to me."

"I. . ." No. She would say no. She would tell Giovanni that she'd let herself be eaten alive by her own Gyarados before allowing Him to take her life into his hands, forcing her to work for Him. . . But all she could do was stare at that photograph. It featured all three of her friends smiling freely, obviously not aware of the fact that they were being spied on. If they were to die. . . if Giovanni were to kill them. . . She wouldn't make them suffer because of her anymore. There was nothing else for it, ". . . Fine. . . I - I'll do it. . ."

"Wonderful," Giovanni stated gleefully, finally withdrawing the leverage he'd formerly been threatening her with and snapping shut the case that now held the acid shot once again and placing it back inside his desk drawer, "Now, for your first mission. . ."

OoO

"I can't believe that I'm a part of any of this. . ." Brock muttered, following after Ash as the trio started climbing a wire fence, beyond which sat a long and wide jet line. A few blimps were locked down about five hundred feet away. All was dark and silent, so when May slipped four feet from the ground and let out a yelp, it echoed around them "Sh! Now that we're ten minutes from actually doing this, we can't afford to get caught. . . !"

"I can't help it! Oh, the next time we're expected to climb fences, let me know! I hate wearing skirts and doing heights. . . !" She complained in the loudest whisper she could muster.

By the time they got over the top of the rail and hopped down on the other side, they were all sweaty and tired. They began walking towards the cement airway, skulking low to the ground so as not to attract any unwanted attention, when Ash let out a small yell and Brock and May hit the ground in horror.

"Ash, what is it? Who's there?" Brock muttered, terrorized.

"No one; I just realized that the gate over there was open the whole time. We could have walked right in if _someone _hadn't pointed to the area we chose on the map," Ash looked edgily at Brock and gave a quick roll of the eyes.

"You were the one who said that anything else would be too easy!" May scolded. Ash gave a sheepish 'heh' in reply and proceeded to help her to her feet.

Brock pulled himself up and the two dusted themselves off, following after Ash as he led the way to the nearest steel transport vehicle. Upon reaching the ground below, the group walked up the ramp leading to it and Ash inspected the lock, "Damn. . . Well, it looks ordinary, no Pokemon tolerance. . . May, you should be able to melt it with a simple '_Ember'_. . ."

". . . I can't. . . Don't you remember?" May gave a wry grin as her stance became suddenly rigid, "Team Rocket stole my Pokemon. You'll just have to use one of yours."

"Oh. . ." Ash felt himself frown and he slouched, ". . . Sorry; guess I did sort of forget. . ." There was a painfully awkward silence broken by Brock's clearing his throat and Ash looked up with determination, "Okay; Pikachu, it's up to you. I want you to shock the lock until the latch opens, okay?"

Pikachu gave a nod and leapt from his shoulder, clenching up its fists and expression, and let loose a swift and pointed '_Thundershock' _at the steel latch before him, soon after charring it so that it began to fleck and crumble.

"Good job, buddy, that's all we need. . ." Ash smiled as Pikachu stopped using his thunder power, shook off the effects, and jumped back upon Ash's arms and up to his head to regain his rightful spot on his trainers shoulder, "Now. . ." Ash took a few seconds to pound the bent lock with his fist until there was a click and it propped itself open.

"Hah!" May said triumphantly, running past Ash and stepping inside. Brock followed after her, half brooding still about what they were doing and half impressed with how well they'd accomplished it, "It's so dark. . . ! How're we going to find the control room?" There was the sound of abrupt banging and then the girl moaned, ". . . Ow. . ."

"Hm. . ." Brock said, removing a flashlight and a spare pair of batteries from his backpack. He clicked the small power button and light flared from the device's front, igniting the dusty contents of the aircraft and revealing many crates of anonymous things labeled 'Fragile', "We'd better get moving. We don't know when this place opens or what type of security they could have out there. Someone might come any moment and see us or the damage we've done to the door. . ." He stepped forward and pulled May to her feet, possibly because he felt guilty for not telling her about the fact that he could have prevented her from tripping in the dark to begin with.

"Well. . ." Ash advanced cautiously forward and inspected beyond the railing in front of the others, where, by looking down, he could see the steep fall to the second and first floors. Then he looked to the left, "There's the front of the blimp. We can go straight that way on this floor, or find the staircase to the other two. There's no guarantee which one the control room is on."

"Oh, yes there is," a bright grin flitted across May's face as she shoved past Brock and back out the entrance they'd come from. The two boys could see her leaning precariously over the side of the ramp they'd walked up before, looking at something they couldn't see. She came back with an expression of confidence on her face, "Second floor. I can tell because that's the only one with windows at the front, and obviously, you need to see where you're going when you steer, so. . ."

"Right; let's go, then. The sooner we get this thing off of the ground, the sooner we find Team Rocket, kick Giovanni's ass, and save Misty! And if they've done anything to hurt her, there will be a lot more than a few bruises left when I'm done with them," Ash growled and gave a threatening crack of his knuckles before leaping madly atop the steel railing, intending to drop to the second floor, but he was grabbed at the pant-leg by Brock.

"Ash; be reasonable. There's a good fifteen foot drop from here to the next level. Let's just try and find the staircase or elevator or whatever. It might take awhile, but there's a probability that it's safer. . ."

"Oh; right." Ash sighed and lowered himself swiftly to the ground again, seemingly bummed out that he didn't get the chance to fall and smash his face flat against the steel floor below, and the two boys turned expectantly to look at May.

". . . Um, sorry, I don't have any voodoo or tricks up my sleeve to help us this time. We'll just have to find the way downstairs on our own." She told them sheepishly, and so the three of them set off to find a way to safely descend to the middle floor, "So, what are we going to do? Take this thing straight to Kanto, or stop in Littleroot and grab the ferry? By now, I know it's logical to go to Viridian without any stops," she said, ignoring possible negative comments at her friends' incredulous glances, "but do we have enough gas to get all the way there. . . ?"

"I think we might. . . Not only do these blimps have to travel town to town, but they hopscotch all around the region. And all of them have to carry a certain number of fuel tanks in case they run off course, or their schedules change last minute, or something like that. As far as I know, there should be at least ten tanks, each carrying enough fuel for two hundred-fifty miles. Whether or not that _is _enough to reach Kanto. . ." Brock tapered off, looking unsure.

"How the Hell would you possibly know that!" Ash asked skeptically as he quirked an eyebrow at his friend.

"It's just something you pick up after being held hostage in one of these things by Team Rocket so many times," was the reply. The three sweat dropped and Brock continued to run the white light he was holding in his hand around the narrow walkway, "Hey, wait! I think I found it! Okay; now that we know which way we're going, and I assume that we're leaving in this one, and soon, one of us needs to hurry up and close the door. Lock it as best as you can. The other two of us will head to the control room to make positive that this thing can start up on its own and we'll check the access to the gas tank for refueling and the map for the quickest route. We'll take off in a half-hour, tops."

Ash checked his watch with a yawn, "It's almost four in the morning; let's hope this thing has auto-pilot."

"What happened to not being able to force ourselves to sleep?" May joked, but she too let out a yawn and, noticing Ash's irritated expression, turned and said, "Well, anyway, I'll go close the door. You two head down to the control room and I'll catch up in about ten minutes if things go easy enough."

Brock turned the light on a slightly rusted set of stairs and, after hearing May stumbling in the background, he and Ash walked down, keeping a strong grip on the railing alongside the stairs just in case they accidentally slipped.

Behind them, May had managed to find the door again and was trying to shut it tight enough to lock, but Pikachu had bent something the wrong way and the latch was being blocked just short of the lock, so it couldn't stay shut.

Frustrated, May turned to call the boys for help, but bit her lip at the last moment. If there happened to be someone working security detail then it wouldn't really be the best idea to shout for assistance right next to the open door, would it? So, instead, she turned and tried to find something to knock the broken piece out of the way, but all she saw were crates of items for the trips the blimp was supposed to take later that week. Non-perishable food items, emergency replacement parts. . . And a crow-bar to open the crates up with.

Eyes twinkling almost menacingly, she picked it up and turned back to the door, raising it high above her head. Then she yelled out and brought the steel rod down, sending it crashing against the small, protruding object before her. After a few consecutive impacts, the piece fell to the ground and May was able to kick it away with her foot.

The next problem was that the lock was now completely broken, so the only thing that she could do to make the groups flight a safer one was to slam the door so tightly shut that it lodged itself tightly against the arch of the walls and then place the crow-bar she'd used before within the handle so that it stretched the length of the exit and along the wall, blocking it from opening.

The only thing they could do now was hope to God for good weather.

OoO

The ensemble was mainly a bodysuit, black in color, with a high collar, no sleeves, and shorts. She had a pair of pearly white leather boots with one inch heels, and they reached past her knees. The gloves were white, too, and almost came to her shoulders. Upon her left breast was the Team Rocket logo, a simple scarlet 'T' and 'R'.

"You will capture them; bring them to me." Giovanni told her as she fitted the belt to her waist, that which held her own Pokemon, "Your friends are undoubtedly coming here to find you. I want you to meet them before they arrive and take hold of their Pokemon. You won't have any back-up so be ready for them to fight you, which they will once you destroy any hopes they may have that you are still one of them."

Misty tried to ignore what her father was saying, but doing that would mean thinking about facing her friends and convincing them of her alliance with Team Rocket.

"However, it will take them awhile to find this area, so for the next few days, you'll be taking a few basic defense classes, followed by Pokemon Training and Tactics. No doubt you're already a survivor in this world," he stated after she turned and glared threateningly at him, "but I'm pressed to be absolutely positive that my soldiers are able to handle any type of adversary, or any turn of the battles they act in. And your life, of course, is of absolute necessity."

"Fine; whatever you say." She began, in reply for the first time in over an hour. He smirked at her toneless obedience but, next moment, she spoke again in a slightly stronger voice, "However, I've joined you, I've agreed to your terms, to take your classes, to deliver my friends to you. . . You touch them wrong, and I'm afraid I'll have to use every trick and ability you teach me to finish you. I'll end your life so abruptly that you won't have any chance to think about your organization or the crimes you've committed during your leadership. Everything you've ever done will be unraveled. Your legacy will end and be forgotten before you even realize that you've lost everything."

"You forget. . . Your friends are not allowed to mean anything to you. You handed yourself and your future over to me. Should they get between that and us, it would be, how you say, a taboo on our deal. This is your test - to find them, tell them that it is useless to reach you, defeat them in combat if you must, and bring them to this place - all without batting an eye. You'll be under surveillance so you won't be able to contact them in any way. Bring them to me and they live out the rest of their lives here; I daresay it won't be a very productive way of living, but at least they'll be able to breathe for awhile longer. You try and help them escape that, however, and it will be the end of them."

"Why?" She asked suddenly, looking at him for the first time, "Why wouldn't you want them to join you like you're forcing me to do?"

The next thing that happened shocked and angered her; Giovanni started laughing. Loud and sharp, it made her feel nothing but uneasy.

"Come here and take a look at yourself. . ." He said, edging her towards a mirror, "You're wearing my logo, following my orders, giving into such a poor fate. Your friends aren't like that. They're a liability for their heart. You see, they've spent several years under the pretext and friendship of that idiotic boy, Ash Ketchum, demolishing my plans for this world one by one, no matter what the consequences. . ." Giovanni growled, then he coughed and cleared his throat, "You used to be like that as well, but those years you spent alone at your gym softened - weakened - you for me. That's why I waited so long to come after you again. Of course, it wasn't part of the plan that you escape me so many times. The gym was a test of your ability to meet deadly challenges, the time outside of Rustboro went not nearly as well as I thought it would. No doubt your being so close to those three children lessened your top-notch awareness."

"Are you saying that being away from Ash made me ripe for the picking for your evil schemes? That without him to give me confidence, I - I'm nothing. . . ?"

He smirked at her, as though glad that she was able to catch on so quick.

"You are not nothing. If you're tied to me, you will never be nothing. Those you love are not the only ones who can give you strength," she turned red at the comment but he seemed to ignore it, "Strength may be gained by many outlets, including those you fear, or those you respect. You respect me, therefore, and I will make you strong."

"If you think so. . . because I will never fear you."

"You may believe so. . . for a little while longer, anyway," was the reply.

Misty turned her head from her reflection for the first time and gave a very small sigh. Her eyes and cold expression were very unflattering at the moment. But she could still see her father's face, the hand he was still grasping her shoulder with containing a somehow chilling grip.

That was one Hell of a superiority complex he had, she knew for sure.

Swiftly stifling the thought, she swatted Giovanni's hand away from her and turned to counter the confident smirk he was throwing at her.

"Just don't challenge me. I already have your blood; if I need your wit to turn the tables on you and make good on my threat, I will stay long enough to learn all of the tricks of your trade. Like I said, touch them wrong after their delivery and it's going to be the end of you."

"Whatever you say, my dear Aurora. Now, come with me; there's much to teach you and your Pokemon before you will be ready to face them."

OoO

The control room was a very elaborate place. The buttons and levers all over the walls were marked with things such as 'Lighting', 'Locks', 'Temperature', etc. There was a graphic mapping system up front, a steering wheel, and, as per request, an auto-pilot icon.

"Wow, this is. . . pretty cool. . . !" May said, her eyes sweeping over everything.

"And if we weren't in current progress of stealing this thing to go and save Misty, then we'd have a lot more time to wait around and look at all of this," Ash reprimanded her, and then turned to face Brock, "but we don't. Anyway, how do we get this thing started?"

The oldest moved forward and attempted to turn the wheel but it wouldn't budge more than an inch. He tried turning the mapping and navigational system on next, but that didn't work either. His hands traced the front wall as though hoping to find a power button, but it didn't seem to exist. Finally, he turned back to the others in realization, walking past them to a small column right next to the door they'd entered from.

"Looks useless, guys. . . We need some sort of key. Everything's no total lockdown until somebody inserts on in here," he placed his hand on the small column.

"That's not all, guys!" Ash shouted suddenly, his gaze outside the front window, "It looks like we've been found out! There are three people headed over here from what I can see, and they're definitely in a hurry!" He turned back to his two friends, "How are we going to deal with them?"

"'Deal with them!'" Brock quoted furiously, "Ash, we're already in process of stealing an aircraft! We're not going to add 'injuring officers of the law' to the list!" He ignored the younger Pokemon trainer's glare and tried to think of a way out of their predicament, "But we can't get caught. . . We need to get to Misty, right? I can try and head them off, distract them. . . but we still need that key. . ."

"Hello, Brock. . . !" May sung out, removing something from her hair so that one pigtail looked slightly more limp than the other, "Haven't you ever heard of hotwiring? Go on; Ash and I will stay here and pick the lock. I'm pretty sure I can get it undone in five to ten minutes. . ." She bent down to inspect the key insertion place as well, "Yea. . . That should be enough time." She held out the item she'd withdrawn from her hair, revealing it to be a clip.

Not wanting to gain the details of how May knew how to hotwire _anything_, Brock left them to it, removing a Pokeball and his flashlight so that he could get outside before the figures advancing from below them could get inside. After almost running straight into the door leading outside, which May had locked so thoroughly, he ran down the ramp to the grass and cement field below, throwing his Pokeball.

"Go. . . Onix!" He shouted, and the giant stone snake formed before him in a flash of red light, "Quick, use '_Sandstorm_!'" He continued, catching sight of the three shadows closing in on him.

Onix roared and a cyclone of earth surged upward into the air, spewing grains of sand heavily to the ground from all directions. Soon, the three guards would be lost from beyond it, and he'd be able to call back his Pokemon and get back to the blimp.

Brock looked back at it, but there was no guarantee as to how close May was with her success of getting it to start. Then, quite suddenly, there was a chorus of sharp screams from beyond his sight, coming from the eye of the storm his Pokemon was creating. Only an idiot would've been stupid enough to travel into such a fiercely temperamental area. . . But he couldn't risk hurting anybody.

"Onix, stop it now!" He shouted, making up his mind. He quickly tore the snake's Pokeball from his belt and called him back, then ran forward with his arms over his head into the quelling waves of sand so that he could make sure the trespassers on the groups' plan to find Misty were healthy. When he finally got close enough to get a good look at them, however, he could only sigh irritably, "Oh, no. . ."

It was Jessie, James, and Meowth; all were holding on to one another and all were looking a little worse for wear.

"What the Hell are you three doing here?" He asked angrily, but was interrupted by padding footsteps coming up from behind him.

"Hey, Brock. . . What's going on?" Ash shouted, making his entrance, "I saw you pull Onix back from the cockpit and. . . Wait, what's Team Rocket doing here?" He asked, noticing them for the first time.

"I think that they were just about to tell me; weren't you, guys?" Brock said, turning back to the trio, who were finally showing renewal of the feeling in their legs.

"Ah hah hah hah hah hah. . ." Jessie cackled somewhat shakily as she reached her feet, "You didn't think you'd actually lost us last time, did you? That cheap shot didn't get us very far to begin with. We're back to steal that Pikachu!"

Not remotely phased by this threat, Ash cleared his throat.

"You guys can't be serious. . . Look, this isn't a good time. We were at Rustboro for more than half a month! Why didn't you try and get us then?"

"We. . . we were waiting for the perfect time!" James stated defensively, getting to his feet. Meowth joined the two flunkies.

"Oh, yea, and that's clearly now in the dead of night, on an abandoned air field, just when we're getting ready to go and - - never mind." Brock finished abruptly, "Ash, we've gotta go. This isn't worth it."

Suddenly, May back huffing up to them.

"Okay, guys. I managed to get it to turn. The blimp's ready; we're all set to go. . ." She too stopped talking at the sight of Team Rocket's presence, "What - what. . . ? Wait. . ." She pointed at them and then leant forward, squinting sharply, as though not believing that they were actually there, "Oh, no way. . ." She moaned, coming to a conclusion that it wasn't just their imaginations.

"You's is stealin' a blimp. . . ?" Meowth began, looking half horrified and half impressed.

"After telling up how this was a horrible time to try and steal anything?" Jessie continued.

"I don't think I've ever met such a set of hypocrites!" James finished, "And I grew up filthy stinking rich!"

"Oh, shut up! We have good reason for stealing it!" Ash shouted venomously, "Misty's gone! She needs us!"

"Ash, why are you telling them this?" Brock asked.

"Well, think about it. Misty was kidnapped by their boss; they could be useful. Plus, we have to take them because they know what we're doing. If we leave them then they'll just disguise themselves to look like your average citizens so that their facts seem purely innocent and they'll tell everyone it was us who stole it to begin with tomorrow morning."

"Wait, you's is goin' after da boss?" Meowth asked, his expression turning suddenly cold to the whole discussion, "Da boss took yoi friend? But why would he want her?"

"Anyway, forget it. The only way you'll be getting us on that blimp is by force. We won't work willingly against the only people we can call family. So tough luck." Jessie finished in defense.

"Hey, Pikachu. . ." Ash said offhandedly, and the electric rodent on his shoulder allowed his cheeks to crackle threateningly, "I hate to have to press the subject, but we're in a hurry. It's going to take forever to get back to Viridian and who knows what they're putting Misty through right now. . . ?"

The trio of bumbling villains eyed the fierce looking mouse wearily and then nodded as one in submission.

"We'll come, we'll come! Just call him off!" They yelled in fear.

Ash grinned and Pikachu automatically settled himself comfortably back on his shoulder.

"Glad we've got that all straightened out. Now let's get going." He said, and the group of seven present walked the rest of the way back to the blimp, hurrying up the ramp, slinking inside, locking the door shut. They proceeded down to the control room and shut the hatch, May sat alongside Team Rocket to make sure they didn't try anything (since they didn't know that she was currently unarmed), and Brock sat down in front of the graphic mapping system.

"Okay, guys," the future breeder said, clicking madly at the coordinating keyboard, "We're set on auto-pilot for now. One of us will have to stay up to keep an eye on things for the next few hours while the rest of us get some sleep," he avoided looking at Jessie, James, and Meowth as he said this, as they might have been insulted that they were the 'things' they'd have to keep an eye on.

"I'll do it first off. It's better for a girl to get all of her beauty sleep at the same time." May said.

"Alright, but. . . can I talk to you for a moment?" Ash said and pulled her aside, "Team Rocket may not be the smartest group of villains in the world, but it's always good to have a proper defense handy in case they get tricky." With that said, he handed her a Pokeball, "It's Craudant. Just so you're ready for anything."

"Right. . . Thanks, Ash." May said with a small grin before they both felt the floor below them quaking as they slowly but surely lifted off into the air.

"And. . . We're off!" Ash said excitedly, turning away from her and managing to contain himself to a seat, "To find Misty!" He ended gleefully, not looking the least bit ready to drop off to sleep.

May took a seat besides Team Rocket and belted herself down; Brock joined Ash up front, who was suddenly nodding off. Ash had joked a few times before that he became thoroughly exhausted quite suddenly at times due to something known as a 'Hamburger Deficiency'. Perhaps he truly hadn't been kidding. . .

"Okay, wake me up in about four hours?" Brock asked her and she nodded the affirmative. To help be positive of the time, he set his watch's sports alarm and then he laid his head back and closed his eyes.

May turned to look at Jessie, James, and Meowth since it was now her duty, but all three of them seemed to be out cold in their seats, thankful to have a set of slightly comfortable sleeping quarters' for once, rather than the cold ground or whicker basket they usually used. Then she settled down and, forcing herself to stay awake, contemplated Misty and the possibility of how dangerous their entire situation truly was. . .

OoO

Two days later, the group was flying over the Whirl Islands in the Jhoto region, planning to cut across in an Eastern movement towards Cinnabar Island in Kanto so that they could make a clean Northern turn and head straight towards Pallet Town.

Team Rocket turned out not to be completely useless, as they'd had much practice in the operation of blimp mobility due to their many attempts to use the craft as a getaway vehicle. There were a few times when Brock would accidentally steer straight into some high-turbulence winds and James would have to take over the wheel in order to be sure that they made it out safely and without losing any equipment.

The real test, however, would be taking place in a few hours. . .

The hurricane was barely noticeable at first, until one of the cyclones of water impacted with them, and they realized that they were losing speed, incentive, and the blimp's paneling upon being pulled within the tornado.

"Oh, no! Oh, no!" May squealed, hanging onto her seat, "Brock, do something! Ash; someone!"

"May, I barely know how to work this thing in broad daylight! We all know that I'd probably get us killed if I tried to do something now!" Brock replied, gritting his teeth as he attempted to hold the steering wheel straight so that they could stay upright.

"Wha-! This is it, then, I guess! We. . . we might have to evacuate!" Ash shouted, half terrified and half angry.

"'Evacuate'? To where? Are you nuts? The closest land is in Olivine and we'd have to swim at least fifty miles to get there! That is, if we can survive the legions of wind and meter-high waves right below us!" May clamped her mouth shut momentarily as the blimp shuddered noisily and turned topsy-turvy on them, "Ah! We're dead!"

Suddenly, a blaring alarm sounded around the hanger and Ash leapt forward to read the information panel.

"It says we just lost one of our engines and the evacuation door we tried sealing up after the lock broke! What are we going to do?" He yelled in panic.

Brock tried to reply but was interrupted by the force of Jessie pushing him out of his seat and replacing his presence.

"Hey, what the Hell--"

"--I don't know about you, but I plan on living through my twenty-third birthday! James, Meowth, stop cowering and get your asses into those seats! I'm going to need your help for this! You three. . ." She turned to Ash and the others, "Take a seat, put on your seatbelts and locate the oxygen masks found in the emergency compartments next to you! I have a plan!" James and Meowth were already beside her, flipping off a series of switches connected to the other engines, seemingly aware of what she wanted to do to begin with.

"What do you think you're doing? That's most of our power! How are we going to escape this now?" Brock shouted, although he still followed their orders, securing himself to a chair.

"We've already lost one engine and we can't stop to make any repairs at the moment, can we? There's no way this tub of steel has enough strength to pull through this!" Jessie stopped talking momentarily to pull on a few certain levers. The group of three bystanders and a Pokemon stood by as they heard the unmistakable slam of about four doors shutting in the sub compartment of the blimp leading to the cockpit, "The only way we'll survive this is by diving underwater and to the greatest depths we can manage before losing anymore equipment. We won't be able to take much more of these winds without everything being stripped away! And, if that happens, we won't have any chance at all!" She tried to explain to the now wide-eyed trainers.

"According to the offline manual, Jessie," James started, sitting in front of a computer that was installed into the control system area, "this tank can handle eight hundred-fifty meters of water pressure! We could go deeper if necessary, but only for up to twenty minutes!"

"Da scale's droppin', team! We should be impactin' wit' sea level in tree. . . two. . . one--!" There was the dropping of several stomachs as their craft gave a guttural waver and groan, and the visible high-speed winds and small objects flying past their windows changed to just visible, chomping waves, which vanished to reveal the deathly corpses of small water Pokemon, mostly Magikarp, that either didn't sense the storm coming or couldn't escape it in time.

"Oh. . ." May whimpered sadly, turning her gaze from the oceanic cemetery, "I. . . It's so sad. . ."

"Brock, why didn't radar pick up on the hurricane?" Ash asked, hoping to find an unrelated topic to quell the seasickness in his stomach produced by such a ghastly sight, and the tremors of their blimp as it turned this way and that with the current that, luckily, was blowing East.

"I wasn't using the radar very often, Ash. It's an online tool and, unfortunately, going online also ignites the tracking system installed. I only glanced at the reports once every few hours and only for a few seconds at a time. Luckily, it takes almost half a minute for the system to gain a whole reading on our whereabouts so, if we schedule our glances right, then we can't be followed. But, obviously unluckily, it also constitutes a problem in that we can't always get a full detail on the weather we're due to run into. . ."

"Huh. . ." Ash said, only half understanding; the finish of this inquiry happened just in time for the blimp, which had formerly calmed its movements considerably, to spin rapidly in a series of strongly sickening formations, "Ah! What's going on now?" He shouted, removing his oxygen mask.

"Ugh, oh, no. . . ! We've hit a massive junction formed of a meet and crossing of at least three different currents!" James shouted, agonized, "And we're going to get pulled into the wrong one if we don't do something!"

Jessie responded by flipping on three more of the engines.

"We'll just have to escape from here before we get carried too far away. . ." She growled, gripping the wheel as though ready to floor it and leaning forward in her seat as though this would help propel them beyond.

Ash caught sight of May with her gloved hands grasping fixatedly onto her chair and her eyes slammed shut. She was muttering something that sounded a lot like a prayer. Somehow finding this a good idea, he joined her in that silence, hoping to take his mind off of that horrible, vomiting motion his gut seemed to be wanting to make.

But faith didn't do any good this time around, and luck wasn't on their side either. They were able to force themselves out of the opposite current they'd first found themselves in, only, just in time for a funnel to appear out of nowhere and suck them into the depths of the ocean they were trying to escape from.

"Ah! We've lost our right paneling and another engine!" James screamed in horror, looking very antsy. Jessie stomped her feet into the ground and gritted her teeth, her eyes alight with fury.

"Oh, no! I am _not _going down like that! It's going to take a Hell of a lot more than some measly hurricane to stop me!" She screeched.

"Den how's about a flood of water? 'Cause we're about one hundred meters from our water pressure max!" Meowth meowed, his eyes on the gauge, "Fifty meters. . . Twenty-five. . ."

"Agh! We're going to be scrambled!" May cried, as the funneling current dragged them down in a cliché vortex of doom.

The entire aircraft-turned-submarine creaked wearily as the water draft from beyond sifted around and the group heard the spitting of screws on steel walls, the spurting of weighty fluid upon their vehicle. Suddenly, the use of the extra barricade that Jessie had taken into effect made a lot of sense.

"Does anybody. . . feel that. . . ?" Brock gulped, looking down to the floor and noticing his pant legs were soaking through, "Ash, May, keep your hands on those buckles! We're being flooded! You too, Team Rocket!" He added and all three bumbling villains looked back at him momentarily with wet eyes, touched that he would care so much.

Suddenly, the entire blimp turned over onto its back and began surging speedily in all awkward directions. The water receded into the back of the control room, sloshing around their ankles. Everyone, feeling suddenly seasick, placed their hands over their mouths to hold back their vomit.

It was like a roller coaster, only more life-threatening, and one that was obviously built for water-world, as the sea level was rising dramatically with their speed, now right below their knees. A look at the pressure gauge told them that they were still almost two times deeper than they were supposed to be (meaning two thousand two hundred-fifty meters), and they were still spiraling out of control, zigzagging left, right, and around in snaking circles so that they had to close their eyes and hold their heads roughly against the back of their seats just to avoid screaming.

"We's is still almost two thousand meters below da surface!" Meowth screeched as James clumsily moved to place an oxygen mask around the felines face, "We's isn't goin' ta make it! Da water's filled two and a half floors! It's weighin' us down! It'll take up ta half-an-hour minutes to break land at a controlled speed!" He finished, jumping to hitch his feet up and avoid the water, but it was impossible at this point, as the level had raised to their waists.

"Well, what about. . . an _un_controlled speed. . . ?" May gulped, terrified as she readied to release herself from her seatbelt if it came down to that. She was interrupted by the sound of Brock's windowpane cracking, the pressure becoming too much for it to handle.

"It's not enough! Two of the seven main engines are finished and there's no way to start them up again!" Jessie yelled as her hands, currently on the steering wheel, became distorted by the water level, "There are always emergency engines for things like this, but they're located in another sub-control room, probably on another floor; there's no way we could reach them now!"

"Well, we have to try!" Ash shouted, unbuckling himself from his seat and gripping his headrest so that he didn't float off into the abysmally cold sea filling out around him, "James, I'm sure that there's a map of this entire thing on that computer! Find it and see if it mentions where that control room is!" He stated authoritatively, swimming to a corner compartment next to the column that May had earlier coaxed into action, opening a cabinet containing a box of emergency equipment and removing a couple of underwater breathing devices as the Rocket boy typed rapidly behind him.

"Ash, you can't go out there alone!" May shouted, reaching for her own belt release and removing her oxygen mask at the same time.

"I got it!" James said confidently, but as he turned in his seat to show his findings to Ash after inspecting them, the monitor flickered a few times and faded out. There was a moment of crackling electricity which, thankfully, ended as well because of the water resistance installation, "It's. . . gone!" Ash seemed to ignore him as he continued talking to May.

"I'm not going alone; James is coming with me." He said, circling swiftly around the hanger and handing everyone a snorkeling device.

"What?" Both she and James demanded.

"There, at least now you'll be able to breathe. Let's just hope that we don't run into another current that will drag us low enough for the water pressure to kill us, or. . . well. . . there's the impact, if we hit land the wrong way. . . Or if we can't manage to get the engines working, there's the extreme drop in temperature. . . Anyway. . ." Ash turned to answer his two companions inquiries, "Look, he was the only one to see the sub-control room's whereabouts. Without him, we're all dead, and so is Misty." It was the first time he'd mentioned her in two days, and it was painfully obvious now how much he was willing to risk for his best friends' safety, "Now, Brock, I need you to look after Pikachu for me, okay?"

He attempted to remove the electric rodent from his head so that he could hand him safely to Brock, but the yellow mouse wasn't having it. He growled and actually bared his fangs at the older breeder, who was hoping to help out the situation. No; Pikachu seemed to be perfectly content with asphyxiating himself atop his trainers scalp.

"Pikachu. . ." Ash murmured, sighing, "You have to stay here. . . Coming with me is pretty much a death sentence for you. . . If you go with me and James, it's going to be in a Pokeball. I can't risk you getting hurt, okay? I depend on you, on our friendship, to help me through times like these, and I'm going to need you even more when we get to Viridian City. . . Okay?" He asked, and picked his friend up and placed him into his arms, smiling reassuringly at him before placing him in Brock's lap.

"Ash. . ." His friends said under their breath, but Ash turned, not intent on saying anything else that might make them more emotional.

He faced James, still waiting for an answer, "C'mon, James. . . please. You're saving your friends by doing this, too," he said, nodding towards Jessie and Meowth, who were torn between egging their male human partner on and pulling him into a group hug, "It's a chance to show them what you're made of. . . !" He gasped as the water level finally rose above his mouth and nose, and everyone quickly placed their masks over their mouths.

Still looking unsure of this deliberation, James gave his team one last glance before nodding and unbuckling himself from his seat.

"Good; now what floor is it one?" Ash said, his voice sounding strangely blurred from within the breathing piece as he swam back to his backpack and picked through his clothes and supplies, removing a single pair of rubber gloves, and handing one to the Rocket boy, "Just in case. . ." And both of them placed the gloves on one of their hands.

James nodded, pointing downward to the first floor and, without saying another thing to anyone else, the two proceeded to swim back to the door leading to the halls, guest rooms, and stairways of the rest of the aircraft, opening the door. Wordlessly, Jessie pushed the levers for the extra barricade she'd set up earlier on into the opposite direction and they too rose into the ceiling, allowing both young men the chance to swim through safely, the water rising steadily behind them.

"Good luck. . ." May said softly from under her filtering device, then, crossing her arms and rubbing her gloves along them to create a slightly heated friction, she continued, "It's getting colder. . ."

Jessie finally awoke from a sort of reverie and turned back to the control panel, gazing at the gauge.

". . . That's because the water's too heavy on top of this broken down ship and the currents losing strength. . . We're beginning to sink. And trying to escape without any pressure stabilizing wetsuits will kill us. We're stuck unless we can get the full throttle of those extra engines. For now. . ." She turned and flipped the switches to the last two main engines so that they grunted into life, ". . . that will have to do."

OoO

Upon exiting the hanger and managing their way out into the main second floor hall, Ash and James quickly grabbed hold of the rail so that they didn't end up automatically being pulled upward to the third floor. The walls and signs and everything around them danced aquatically in the dark, less than shallow submission of the sea.

"We need to hurry. . . !" Ash told James in a slightly distant voice, nodding to himself and kicking rapidly against the body built science that would have normally forced him to float towards the sky; James followed behind him in affirmative silence and they kept a hand close to the guardrail just in case they weren't strong enough to go on their own, descending towards the blackened and obscured final floor. Taking incentive, he tried to clear the air, "I need to tell you. . . I'm sorry."

He wasn't sure James had even heard him at first.

"For what, exactly?" He asked, and he actually sounded as though he didn't know.

"For all of this," Ash sighed in reply, "If I hadn't been so worried about Misty and freaked out about you possibly telling everyone in Rustboro what we'd done, you wouldn't be here in this situation. I guess I should thank you, too. Without you here this time around, we'd have probably ended up stranded on some abandoned island on our first day in the air."

"Gee, doesn't this conversation sound like it's just going in the perfect direction?" James started sarcastically, "Well, if it'll make you feel any better, we probably _would _have told them all just to spite you. . ." Ash glanced at him, half humorously and half angrily at this confession, ". . . Then the police would ask how exactly we'd known that since it happened after closing hours in the dead of night, and we wouldn't be able to come up with a good excuse, and it'd end up with our getting chased out of town by a mob of tourists who thought we were in on the disappearance of their only ride out of Rustboro. . ." He looked miserable at the thought of it.

"Oh, c'mon, your luck can't be that bad." Ash said reassuringly but, then again, what did he really know about it? For the longest time, the worst luck he'd had had been while ordering a cheeseburger at the old diner in Pallet and finding out that they were out of pickles.

"This way," James said randomly, and it was obvious that the conversation was over.

The young man in Rocket garb swam swiftly forward, surpassing Ash and turning towards the opposite end of the blimp as the third floor control room was on. Ash squinted, under the impression that there was a series of anonymous silhouettes slinking around up ahead as the two swam past the rows of completely shattered windows on the walls beside them.

"Hey. . ." He began, but the shadows had vanished, and, thinking it a trick of the eyes, he decided against mentioning them, "There?" He asked instead, pointing at a single door at the very end of the hall straight in front of them, which had revealed itself quite suddenly, and James nodded.

The two approached the large steel door and attempted to push, pull, and kick it open, but all thoughts failed in succession. Finally they were sharp enough to notice the column right beside the door, one with an uncanny resemblance to the one that May had tricked up into livelihood earlier on, only there was no way to do that this time, as neither Ash nor James was feminine enough to prance around with pins in their hair, and they didn't have any other way of getting the door to open.

"Guess we'll have to do this the unorthodox way!" The Pokemon trainer said and took a swing at the keyed pillar. Of course, since they were under water, the motion was slowed considerably and barely made an impact; plus, because it was human flesh versus steel, he probably retained the most injury, "Ow! Ow, ow, ow! Gah; that's it!" And he removed a Pokeball from his belt, "Let's hope this works the way we need it to! Go, Grovyle! Quick, use '_Razor Blade_'!"

There was the ever-familiar flash of red light and the grass-type appeared, looking majestic and courageous. . . then going very wide-eyed and clawing at nothing in front of him out of terror at the acknowledgement that he couldn't breathe underwater.

"Ah! I'm sorry, but hurry and attack so that I can call you back into your Pokeball!" Ash said, pointing an arm at the column and wringing the other one out because of the pain of his personal attack.

Not wasting any time, the Pokemon focused on the sharp butchering leaves on its forearms and they glowed white; he struck the key insertion object soundly and it divided into three pieces. The door opened automatically to reveal a still almost completely dry room and Ash called Grovyle back and rushed in with James just ahead, shutting the door again by pressing a button on the panel just beyond; the water, therefore, stopped pouring in around them halfway up their shins and they were able to take off their breathing devices.

"About your calling on Grovyle. . . Why didn't you do that to begin with?" James asked as he caught his breath. He looked deathly cold at this point, and exhausted.

"Hey, I'm a trainer, not a genius." The younger boy shrugged in reply, "So. . . what is this place? Where are the engine controls? And. . . How the Hell is it still unflooded, or not crushed or whatever?" He finished, looking around at the completely intact walls.

The room was barely eight feet wide, but it was a good twenty feet long. To their left and right stood a series of boilers and temperature gauges for different area of the blimp and at the back of the room was an installed computer system, a lot of wiring, a PA communication system, and several other things.

"It looks to be an extension made after the original blimp was created. . ." James murmured, running his hands along the bolts and proper melding job on the wall leading back out into the main area of the first floor, "And look, no windows. This area is half mechanics, or manual, and half electric," he nodded towards the equipment down at the end of the room, "When they built this second control room, they made it so that it was able to withstand the pressure and water used in sea travel. You see those?" He pointed to the ceiling, where seven parallel steel-coated wires were covering the elongated area from the first control room to the back of the one they were currently standing in, "Electric cables connecting the first seven engines to the ones here. We're directly in front of the power system." He nodded towards the rounded wall in the back, beyond which lay the open sea.

"Fine; now let's not waste anymore time!" Ash said, waving tirelessly through the rest of the room and dragging James with him. Everything was already powered up and looking simple enough to identify.

"Okay. . ." James sighed, "this should be easy. . ." He found the only four levers there and pulled.

The dull hum of the main engines Jessie had turned on a half-an-hour before was joined by the thunderous action of the four back-up engines coming to life, as well.

Of course, the combined power of those nine engines plus the current they were relying on to push them up to the surface was so strong that everyone felt the growing speed as they shot upward. Because Jessie, Meowth, May, and Brock were tied down to their seats, they were simply forced to sit back and wait for that strange, pressing feeling to vanish, but down on the first floor, James and Ash were sent flying forward.

James, used to this type of danger, was able to catch himself before he really lost his footing, and he grabbed onto one of the boiler pipes to secure himself; unfortunately, Ash wasn't so lucky, and was sent face-first into the electric dashboard computer system formerly in front of him. James didn't notice anything wrong at first; that was, until the younger boy slumped to the floor in an unconscious heap.

"Ah, not the twerp!" The Rocket villain said, running forward and turning the trainer over to inspect him. There was a large nasty knot above Ash's right eye, and it was bleeding quite badly, alongside a split lip, "Hey, you, twerp, wake up!" Ash made no acknowledgement that he heard anyone calling to him and continued to lay there uselessly, the small filtering oxygen device having fallen from his slackened grip, "I guess now it really is up to me. . ." James finished with a grunt, pulling Ash up off the ground and lifting his weight around his shoulder.

Suddenly his attention was drawn to something else, as there was a sudden pounding on the steely locked door they'd originally come through. Two seconds later, it came crashing down to the ground and the room was completely flooded. James had just enough time to leap away from the computer area behind him before the water came into contact with it, and it began smoldering and crackling dangerously, proving that Ash's thought to bring that pair of gloves truly was lucky.

He placed his oxygen device over his mouth and looked down beside him to pick up Ash's, but it had been washed away by the tide. He had one second to take the deepest breath he could manage, pull his tube from his mouth and stuff it into Ash's, and gain the best grip he could on the unconscious trainer before everything vanished in a haze of murky, oceanic light.

However, he was finally granted the chance to see what had cause such an impossible to handle situation. It was now obvious that Ash's eyes had not been playing tricks on him earlier, as the school of Tentacool filtered into the room to deal with the trespassers on their turf. It seemed that, once the windows on the first floor had shattered and the current had weakened so that their blimp's speed had lessened, the Pokemon had taken to the seemingly completely ruined transportation vehicle.

Feeling slightly faint, James quickly pinched Ash's nose shut and removed the breathing tube from his mouth, taking a few large breath's before replacing it. Meanwhile, the twenty or more water Pokemon began closing in on them and preparing their _Poison Sting _attacks. . .

OoOoO

**Apology **- Aloha, friends, fans, and web stalkers; all who've red the spoilers since chapter one have probably realized that this chapter didn't end the way I stated it would last time around. Unfortunately, in the words of **gladdecease**, the prologue of this fic made it sound like it had the potential to become a greatly bloody Team Rocket fic. Of course, and I'm sure you've all noticed it, Jessie, James, and Meowth have had barely a word until now, and the thing is. . . I wasn't really planning on featuring them much at all. That's right; you can go ahead and freak out on me now, I admit it. Anyway, it hit me somewhere around the middle of writing this chapter. . . That is, you just _can't _write a "bloody TR fic" without Jessie, James, and Meowth. So, last minute, of course, I decided to put them back in. Yea, and this was the result, plus, I wanted to make them useful and not just Ash-goes-crazy-and-takes-certain-characters-hostage, thus the hurricane scene. And I love James, so I wanted to make him some kind of hero, which is why I knocked Ash out (so sorry to **KawaiiCherryBlossom**, who I know is a big fan of his). Anyway, this huge chain of events (last minute TR inclusion - TR usefulness - hurricane scene - James heroism) added a lot of pages to the chapter, and since people finally started complaining that they were getting to be too long, I planned to try and make it shorter to begin with. So. . . basically. . . all this long-winded discussion was working up to was that, in an effort to make the overall plot more appealing to everyone, including myself, I had to change the original spoiler plot. So sorry. Lol.

**Notes **- Oh, my God, you all had better love me. After starting my Ranma fic, "Herbal Remedies", I had originally planned to put this entire project on hold, until such time as I'd finished at least one other that I was currently working on, but I gave into finishing up the last, maybe, 7,000 words over the past few days. Yes, if you were wondering, I had to wrap my fingers in a lot of gauze and tape to cushion the bruises from hurting so much and I'm not even kidding. That's just how much I love this fic, and you all.

Also, as of September 8th (in other words, a really long time ago now), Chibi is officially seventeen years old! As a belated birthday present, why not give me lots and lots of reviews? Lol. Oh, and on a more somber note. . .

My mother has suffered, and recovered from, a very serious stroke after her third surgery (a few days after my birthday) and, since I'm just underage and the doctor's are acting like I'm a child with no experience in the matter (though I've been taking care of my mom for years, believe it or not), the state is taking custody of me while they send her home with some incompetent woman who has no idea what she's doing. So I'm in foster care. Yup. In fact, I'm typing this up from my foster mummy's computer right now. . .

Anyway, you guys who don't really care about me and just wanna know about the future of this fic, don't worry. I fully plan on continuing this thing until the very end. I have a strict policy about my writing. If I start a fic and get a positive response, I will always finish it, no matter how many years it takes me. For those who do care about me, I just gotta say it; gee, thanks for the humanity.

Oh, yes, for those who wanted to know, I've finally got an idea for how many chapters Illicit Saints will have! At first, it was going to be rather short (then again, I guess that's all in how you view it, word or chapter total). I was going for six or seven chapters, but after reviewing this chapter and the entire future plot accordingly, it turned out to be more like ten or eleven, total. I actually did the math and, if I have an average of 12,925 words per chapter (based on the average of the chapters I've got typed up so far), then the total amount of words should be somewhere near 129,250 or 142,450 words. Lol; and I write all of the chapters out manually before typing them, too. . . Ow. . . Anyway. . .

**Spoiler for Chapter Four **- At the same time that Ash, May, Brock, and the bumbling Team Rocket are fighting for their lives to reach Misty, she's training strenuously in her fathers' headquarters so that she can reach his standards, thinking that the only way she's able to go through anything in her disgusting life anymore is that it's keeping her best friends alive. But the way things are going, will Ash even survive long enough for her to openly betray him. . . ?


	5. Chapter Four

**Author **- Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon; if I did, Illicit Saints would be a feature film and the anime would be a little more adult and a little more Pokeshippy. No, wait. . . A lot more Pokeshippy. Lots more; yup. But I don't, so it doesn't matter in any case.

**Notes **- Hello! Welcome to the next - the _fifth _(Omg, it's the fifth. . . I never thought I'd see the day) - part of Illicit Saints! Gods, I'm so proud of myself for posting this as early as I did. I set a goal with myself, I'll have you know. I told myself that, if I were to write two pages in my notebook a day, then this would be easily updated by February. And? Was I not right? Wahahah. . . ! Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed the last part, and thanks especially to **Tsuiraku Etowa-ru**, who sent me the longest review of them all! I'm so happy that your lurve for Chibi's fic was strong enough not to be deterred by the fact that it had been, like, five months since I updated. Unfortunately, the way things were going, that couldn't have been avoided, and I'm sad to say that it still might not be.

Until recently, I hadn't been writing anything on Illicit Saints, part four, in months. Probably not since October. And while I've focused myself enough lately to think up this, and the potential final chapter of Herbal Remedies, it doesn't mean that it's always going to be that easy. I will try to update as soon as possible, always, but seeing as I'm hoping to go to college soon, and maybe even get a job, I can't say for sure. Still, hang in there and I'll do all that I can to get these chapters up as soon as I have the chance.

Also, as of December 24, 2005 (you heard me right; Christmas Eve), my mother has been placed back into a nursing home for long-term care. She fell one evening while her in-home-helper wasn't there, and complained about her leg being hurt to the paramedics who arrived at the house hours later, and so she was immediately taken to the hospital. While her leg has sustained no damage, she's gotten a nice lil' lump on her head and will be staying at a place called "Ivy Hall" until further notice so that the doctors there can reassess her physical abilities.

. . . Now, raise your hand if you actually care about that.

Onto the fic!

OoO

**Characters **/ **Ages **-

**Misty **/ **17**

**Ash **/ **16**

**Brock **/ **20**

**May **/ **13**

**Jessie **/ **22**

**James **/ **22**

OoO

**Pokemon** **- Illicit Saints**

Chapter Four

OoOoO

The Rocket Senior threw out his fist and aimed for Misty's jaw. She coupled both of her arms at the elbow and wrist and held them up to her face, blocking successfully. The Senior withdrew his offense and attempted another, swinging on his left heel and throwing his right leg high, aiming for her ribcage. She grunted and accepted the impact, gritting her teeth, grappling his foot.

She gripped him roughly and twisted until she heard the definitive crack of the bone shattering. His scream filtered through the haze of the heated battle and Misty dropped him. He fell to the ground and clutched at his right boot, shuddering painfully at the tender and bruised feeling.

The whistle sounded and Misty sighed, stepping off of the mat and accepting the towel that was handed to her by her underclassman.

"Winner, trainer D-146; Aurora Williams-Black!" The referee stated loudly so that everyone could hear, "She advances to round two of today's training session! We will take a three minute recess so that the competitors may be tended to!" And the man turned and walked in the opposite direction, leaving the wounded Senior member alone on the floor.

That was how it worked in these classes. You fight and win and you can expect everyone to be cheering and helping you along. If you lost, then. . . well, it was obviously well-known that it was better not to lose.

Misty sat down on the stool under the sign that said 'Victor Infirmary - A' and held her head high so that the nurse could examine her neck. Then she extended her arms and tensed slightly as cold hands drew up her shirt and pressed on her abdomen and chest. When she felt the pressure on her mid-left side, she flinched, remembering that she'd accepted the impact of her opponents final kick.

"You bruised one of your ribs; I'd be a bit more careful next time around." The woman said unsmilingly and without much of a caring tone. She gave Misty a small glass of water and tapped her on the shoulder to let her know that the mediocre excuse for an examination was over. Without a word, the redhead reached her feet and took a small sip of water, watching as her last contender slowly made his way to the edge of the mat without any assistance. He rolled off of it and there was a few seconds of mirthless laughter before someone stepped carelessly on the man's hand while walking by and the referee stepped back onto the mat to start the next match.

"Member D-146, Williams-Black versus Member F-19, Fenton. . ." He announced and Misty crumpled the small paper cup, now empty, she'd been holding and three it over her shoulder, along with her towel, and stepped up to the center of the mat. A tall, gangly female approached from the opposite end, staring her down. The whistle blew once to start them off and the woman charged senselessly, knocking her to the ground.

Misty grunted as her head slammed into the mat. Seeing spots mingling with the sounds of grudge-match cheers and booing, she curled her knees to her chest before the woman could pounce, and her opponent ended up landing on her shins. Misty breathed a deep sigh and kicked off the ground with the soles of her boots and there was enough strength there to propel the woman over her body and just to the edge of the mat.

Fenton landed flat on her back, still, and Misty took a moment to reach her feet. When the referee didn't call it, she went to inspect the woman, thinking it was indeed over; she was surprised, therefore, to see the older trainers eyes snap open and barely had time to notice her leap up on one knee and try to swipe her ankles out from underneath her.

Misty jumped backwards onto her hands, flipping successfully and frowning mid-hand-stand. Fenton reached her feet and galloped at her as Misty landed gracefully on her feet. She braced herself with open eyes when the woman's next move became obvious. Fenton held out one arm, bending it upward at the elbow so as to impact with Misty's neck, hoping to incapacitate her larynx.

Misty ducked and attempted to smack her palm against the woman's chin but noticed two seconds too late that she couldn't have followed through. Fenton had, at the last moment, changed offensive tactics so that, instead of a straight-arrow run, she could leap high into the air and hopscotch easily over Misty's shoulders.

The woman did so, turning and striking successfully from behind, her heel colliding with the mold of Misty's shoulder. There was the thunderous crack of her shoulder-blade popping out of its socket and she collapsed to her knees, her throat feeling very dry as the cheering grew louder, the crowd chanting Fenton's name.

Misty tenderly placed her palm to her wounded shoulder and pressed with bated breath, biting her lip at the pain. She had only done this once before, but. . . There was another resounding pop and her shoulder folded itself back in place. She massaged it a few times and wound her arm around to be sure that it was still usable, stopping only when her hair began to stand on end. She turned and noticed Fenton charging at her one last time, seemingly furious that her last plan had failed so miserably to end the match.

Sighing thankfully at the knowledge that she would, indeed, claim another victory, Misty placed her hands on the ground an equal and symmetrical distance from her head, kicking off from the ground. The sole of her right boot impacted with Fenton's head and the older Rocket's feet left the ground. She was sent flying again and hit the ground some fifteen feet away, barely managing to reach her knees five seconds later.

Without a word of regret or an ounce of concern on her face, Misty calmly found her way back to her feet and steadily inched forward. When she had mate it to Fenton's foot, she placed her palms together and intertwined her fists, then she sent the force speeding against the small of the older woman's neck.

Fenton hit the ground hard one last time and Misty placed the heel of her boot on the woman's head, mashing her still face into the ground.

The cheers impacted with her ears as suddenly as the knowledge that the referee had lifted her arm into the air. She swayed bemusedly and wiped her brow, breathing somewhat heavily from the length of the battle.

"Winner, trainer D-146. . . Aurora Williams-Black advances to round three, taking place tomorrow at 0900 hours. Teams 'C' and 'D' are now to go to Conference Rooms twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, and thirty for Pokemon Battling Tactics, all except for trainer D-146, who will stay for one final end-match physical."

Again, Misty walked back to the stool and took a seat. She claimed another towel and a glass of water, watching all of the men and women in black uniform exit through the double-doors, the team identification numbers evident on the backs of their jerseys. None of them looked back at her and smiled, or gave her a thumbs-up, or even smirked at the possibility that it would be their turn to take her on next day.

Then again, 'member D-146' had a bit of a reputation nowadays, and, in any case, there had to be humanity in the people around her for there to be any reaction to her. . . which there almost undoubtedly wasn't. After all, she was only a number here; one hundred forty-six out of two hundred of team 'D'. There were ten teams spanning from 'A' to 'J', all consisting of two hundred members each. At least, that was all that the other less-talented or important members knew of.

Giovanni also had five private teams, one of which Misty would be joining after her training. They were known as the Double Agent Units; 'AA', 'EE', 'II', 'OO', and 'UU', and all of them had a special niche in the empire. 'AA' were the offensive experts, 'EE' were defensive, 'II' were strategists, 'OO' were elementally specific, and 'UU' were Pokemon bounty hunters. While in the Rocket headquarters, they worked together, spanning only twenty-five members tops in each group and assisting one another with their widely-known forte's.

Then, on missions, they would group up a single member from each of the five DAU's and Giovanni would assign them however many ordinary members per major assignment.

The original groups, 'A' through 'J', were labeled by strength as well. 'A' unit members were the toughest and, after completing ten major assignments successfully, Giovanni was said to personally inspect them for eligibility to enter the DAU's. 'J' units were the rookies and one of the only two groups to obtain gray uniforms instead of black.

"Your badge, 146." The referee said, handing her a small, wallet-sized ID with a holographic red 'C' in the background, "As of tomorrow, you'll be reporting to 'C' unit training sessions. Giovanni also said. . ." The man lowered his voice as he spoke, "that one more level advancement should be enough for you. He also said that there are delays." The blank look on the uniformed man's face as he said this proved that he didn't really understand the last part of the comment.

Misty nodded, accepting both the badge and the statement that came along with it. She had reached 'C' unit, and it had only taken her four days. . . Given, she had started at 'E' unit and advanced speedily, but she was almost there. Soon, she would become one of the most powerful members of Team Rocket, and she'd be able to come up with something of a plan to help keep Ash and the others safe. . . !

But. . . what about Giovanni's comment? He said that there were delays. . . That could only mean that something had gone wrong. . . But what? Five days ago, they were looking forward to busting down the Team Rocket HQ together, as a group of perfectly healthy friends. . . But now she was here, training to fight against Ash, May, and Brock, training to capture them and bring them in so that they could spend the rest of their days rotting in a cell block up to a hundred meters below the surface of the Earth.

"You check out. Go ahead and get to your next class." The nurse said simply from behind her back and Misty got to her feet again, handing over the towel and dragging her feet across the floor towards the same double-doors everyone else had gone through.

There were few others in the hallways at the moment, but those who were there didn't bother to keep their voices down as they talked. They smirked as they made offhanded comments about her progress and lineage. After all, it was a rare thing for a new member to start on such a high skill level, let alone the fact that her arrival had been sought after by the leader of the organization himself. It was an unfortunate thing that, while she had a few of her mothers characteristics (her eyes and complexion), she had her fathers hair, height, and (according to what she'd heard since coming here) his attitude, minus the evil cackle anyway.

The funny thing was, Giovanni had what they called the impenetrable poke face, something that Misty could only afford to use while in the Headquarters. And while only a few people there knew of her relationship with the founder of Team Rocket, she knew it to be a suspicion of many that they were involved somehow.

"Clarify your identity with your badge ID. . . ?" The professor waiting just outside of the door to conference room thirty asked, holding out his hand to accept the new card she'd just been given a few minutes ago. She wasn't officially a member of Team 'C' yet, but the credit slide she used to log in to the class would find her name and update her team position in the system so that tomorrow, she wouldn't have to report to Membership Handling, like she'd had to the first time she'd gained a level.

Misty said nothing as she held out the card and the professor slid it through the handheld instrument in his hand. About five seconds passed and a minuscule green light blinked into existence, letting her know that the card had been accepted. She reaccepted her ID and entered the large auditorium, taking a seat at the very back and ignoring any stares that the other 'students' would give her.

This was where the Water-type specialty trainers sat, as that was how the classes were separated, alongside their team. It was easier this way, to pit them against their weaknesses and such when in practice battle.

It was always the same wherever she went here, whatever she did. Unfortunately, it was shameful to admit how easily she'd gotten used to the population, classes, curfews. . . and very irritating.

Today was no different than yesterday. First she'd be pitted against a Grass-type trainer, then a Psychic trainer, then a Water trainer (since they had to learn to profit from physical techniques as well as elemental), and then the class would end and she'd be forced to endure an hour of silence across the dinner table from her father.

In an obviously fruitless effort to magically produce a relationship between the two of them, Giovanni had 'insisted' on sharing supper every night in his private quarters. In rebellion, Misty had complied, but, during each and every meal, maintained a stony silence while the man across from her talked about whatever. As of yet, he still had to threaten her friends' lives for such indecency, allowing her to believe that he was much more of a patient man than he seemed.

"Vileplume, use _Pedal Dance_!" The shout rung out and Misty snapped out of her train of thought to try and come up with a plan as her Seadra was sent flying by the gust of wind and the wondrous aroma, "Now follow up with _Sunny Day_!"

Vileplume drew in a large breath of air and growled as he puffed out his cheeks. The large plant atop his head ruffled slightly with a sudden glow that almost hypnotized all that gazed at him. Then the strange light surged into the depths of the ceiling and Misty suddenly felt the air around her grow stagnant with the rising heat.

"Seadra, counter with Smokescreen!" She shouted, knowing what her opponent was trying to pull and waiting for her Pokemon to attack before thinking about what else she could do, "Use _Barrier _and _Pin Missile_--" She was interrupted before she could finish by her opponent.

"--_Solar Beam_, now!" He called through the haze.

"--at the ground in front of you!" She managed to conclude.

Seadra shot almost six dozen elongated shards of light from his snorkel of a mouth, all of which landed straight upward five feet ahead of him. This was all finished just in time for the fiery beam of sunshine to make its way from the tip of Vileplume's head and through the haze, half of its trajectory correctly aimed at Seadra's place.

Misty's Pokemon, still glowing with the strength of the defensive move, didn't have a chance to run very far and so it was lucky that the _Pin Missile _was there to guard him twice over. The beam impacted wholly with the shards and was held back significantly, allowing Seadra a chance to leap high into the air and to the side, avoiding any damage.

The _Solar Beam _diminished into nothing and, having eliminated the _Smokescreen _as well, Misty was allowed a glance at her opponent, who looked thoroughly shocked that her Pokemon was still standing, and at Vileplume, who, although currently seeming pretty exhausted from that previous attack, was recovering with the help of _Sunny Day_, which had speedily readied the first _Solar Beam _to begin with and which was assisting in producing a second.

"Let's not give them the chance, Seadra! Close in and use a _Bubble Beam _to suppress their power, then go on with another _Pin Missile_!"

Seadra drew breath and then exhaled strongly, producing a surge of bubbles that, fueled with the power of the Pokemon's level and the water element, impacted with Vileplume and forced enough effort on him to knock him backwards a few feet and break his focus.

Then, as the Grass-type was attempting to shake it off, Seadra glowed brightly and unleashed another _Pin Missile_ and sent it flying straight at their adversary, cascading upon their target in flawless accuracy.

"And the match is over. . . ! The victory goes to D-146; Aurora Williams-Black! Your next battle will take place in ten minutes on field 'B', past those doors." The referee stated with the smallest hint of a smirk, and Misty knew why.

Field 'B' pertained to a Psychic arena, and it was this battle that she always managed to lose. Getting the crap beaten out of her numerous times had strengthened her physical will, but her skills in Pokemon training were the exact same as the time she'd walked in here, minus a few levels. Perhaps that was because she was afraid of being totally ruthless to another creature. After all, humans might have decided to join evil organizations like Team Rocket, but their Pokemon wouldn't have been able to pick that preference. Their only chance was to do what their trainers told them to.

But the reasoning for her losses could have been something more obvious, also, like the simplicity of a lack of strength and ability. It also could have been more selfish than anything, still. Maybe she was just afraid that this would harden her soul even more than it already was.

Her given mission had been to capture her friends and bring them here, convincing them that she was unreachable along the way. But that didn't mean that she truly had to be in such a state. It was a wonderful trait humans could attain, the prospect of being so gullible. And fooling people was something that she was undoubtedly good at. . . She'd allowed everyone to believe that she was a temperamental tomboy from a strangely functional sisterhood of a family for almost a decade, after all. Stone-faced alienation was just one of those things she picked up along the way.

She crossed through the double doors and walked into the earthy arena, taking her place at the shoulder of the field.

"The Pokemon battle commencing is one-on-one, trainer D-146 versus trainer D-99. . . The battle will not be recorded by time; D-146 will be using a Water-type Pokemon. D-99 will be using a Psychic-type Pokemon. Secondary types are permitted. . ." The referee said, placing a whistle to his mouth, blowing into it, and withdrawing it again, "Battle, start!"

"Go. . . Xatu!" Her current opponent, a tall, wide man in his late twenties, said, throwing a Pokeball and producing a large, stiff bird Pokemon.

It crowed sharply in response to being set out on the field and awaited instruction.

Misty removed her own Pokeball but hesitated in throwing it. Within the containment device was Psyduck, but it wasn't the Psyduck she had known before coming here. When she had first been forced to join Team Rocket, her bag had been removed from her back, the bag holding her clothes, personal belongings, the box her mom had given her, the only photograph of her mom, and her Pokemon.

Luckily, she had been able to use her PokeNav transfer system to send her Corsola back to Rustboro Pokemon Center before anyone knew any the wiser. . . Unfortunately, sending all of her Pokemon would have taken too much time, and it would have drawn too much unwanted attention from her father. Giovanni may have been evil, conniving, and one-track-minded, but that didn't mean he was stupid.

So Corsola had been saved. . . but Psyduck, so powerful when it truly counted, had been inspected by a series of private scientists and regarded as 'ineffective' in his former state. And because of that, tests had been ordered. Painful, abusive tests. They had gone on for hours, and once he had been deemed fit for progressive battle, he was ordered to return twice a day for 'Therapeutical Brain Stimulation', or, as Misty liked to call it, torture.

For thirty to sixty minutes at a time, three small steely suction cups were placed to his body, one on his forehead and two on his abdomen. They were hooked to a machine which spat out a continuous trail of electricity throughout his muscles, affecting him so thoroughly as to give him an everlasting headache with which he was forced to deal with.

Misty had lost this Psychic trainer battle twice now; once because, quite simply, she hadn't been strong enough. More specifically, she'd chosen the wrong Pokemon for the fight, though she hadn't been aware of it at the time. The second time around, she'd thought more clearly. Psyduck's secondary element type was Psychic, and secondary types were allowed. After all, one of the finer points of a Team Rocket trainers expertise was to weigh the chances of a positive outcome after battle and combine those with personal strength.

So she had sided with Psyduck, even through his most forward of physical weaknesses. The problem was, when he'd been on the battlefield that time, he'd listened to her. The very first time she'd called out to him, asked him to issue a _Confusion _attack, he'd done it. . . The sheer perfection of it had compelled her to forfeit the match.

She had spent twenty minutes yelling at her father for that before he'd explained the situation to her so calmly that it was almost kind of him. But he'd also neglected to tell her then just how excruciating the experimental treatment was for her Pokemon, and, even when she had taken the time to notice Psyduck's burns and the raw pink fleshy hide, there was nothing she could do. She couldn't disobey Giovanni, no matter how much she wanted to tear his legs off to prevent him from running away so that she could further maim him for the many terrible scenes he'd caused, or would cause, of her.

That horrible thought came to her often, too often, really. And every time it did, all she could think of was how despicable a person she'd become. The only thing that reminded her of her kindness, her 'innocence', so to say, was what she was doing all of this for; Ash, May, and Brock - her friends.

And in the end, she'd lose them to her father as well.

"You. . . ! Call out your Pokemon or be disqualified! You have three seconds!" The referee stated coarsely, and Misty came to realize that she'd been staring at Psyduck's Pokeball for almost five minutes. Quickly recovering, she shook her head, throwing the device into the air.

"Go, Psyduck!" The ever-familiar flash of red light later and the small duck was standing before her not looking any different than before she'd come here, physically speaking. But that acknowledgement lasted barely a moment before she knew it was time to see how much had really changed, "Use _Psybeam_!"

Immediately, her Pokemon's eyes began to glow blue, and a thick pulsing apparition of waves echoed telepathically from his mind, so large and heavy that even Misty felt them.

If anything, her opponent was not shocked.

"Xatu, _Barrier_, then, when you've knocked all blasts aside, use _Screech _to disable your adversary long enough for you to finish the combination with a _Future Sight_!"

Misty arched an eyebrow. It seemed that the man that she was facing had their entire battle planned out from the beginning. Bracing herself for what she knew was a failed offensive strategy on her part, she took only enough time to notice the gravelly arena floor on either side of Xatu gaining the onslaught of her _Psybeam_ as his _Barrier _deflected the attack.

"Psyduck, use _Bubble _to obscure the area around you as much as you can!" If it worked, the fog produced would be so thick that it would at least cut the edge off of the _Screech _that would otherwise surely cripple her Pokemon.

Psyduck obliged not even two seconds before a high-pitched sonic wave made its way at them in one elongated note. Misty's Pokemon made its first move to get out of the way, squatting over to his right, using the smallest amount of his potential to clear a way for himself through the smog.

Misty took a chance to think; she could only wonder how it was possible to stop the _Future Sight _from ending the match. That gave her roughly five minutes to learn of a proper defense through the other aspects of the battle she was caught up in.

"_Confusion_, Xatu! Clear the air, and then _Foresight _to lock-on to that Psyduck for a more accurate impact next time around!" The man yelled in what sounded like a tone of the utmost confidence, "After you're sure you've got him, make a run for it with a _Peck _attack to knock him off his balance, then _Psychic_ when he's as close as possible to you and unable to come up with a defense!"

Squinting carefully, Misty was able to lay her eyes on a soft blue aura emanating from the other end of the field. As if a large, spiraling wind had twisted its way between the two trainers, the fog that the redhead had come up with wound itself tightly and spun high, high into the air, far up above everyone's immediate range of vision.

"Psy-duck duck!" Her Pokemon quacked and he looked as though he truly _felt _himself being cornered by the _Foresight_.

As everything came into clear view again, Misty saw an obscured appearance making a beeline for her Pokemon and knew it was the Xatu making a go at his _Peck _attack.

Thinking fast, she shouted as clearly as possible, "Use _Confusion _yourself, Psyduck! Stop him in his tracks and lift him into the air!" Doing just that prevented Xatu from finishing his combination and gave the Water Pokemon trainer a chance to command the use of one of her own, "Spin him like a top on the spot and hit him with a _Scratch _attack!"

The dumpy, yellow duck did as told and with a flick of his short paw, the Xatu was forced into nauseous motion. Every two seconds or so, Psyduck would claw away at another anonymous part of the bird and everyone in the vicinity would hear a piercing chirp from the Pokemon-turned-cyclone.

"Okay, stop spinning him now and throw him backwards with your Psychic attack; don't forget, make it as hard and as fast as you can manage!" Misty called out, pointing at the wall opposite her over seventy-five meters away.

Psyduck placed his paws to his head again and backed away from his opponent, standing a good enough distance so that when he shut his eyes and concentrated all of his power on the task at hand, and the ground just beneath Xatu began to crumble away into swiftly billowing dust clouds, none of it came into contact with him in the least.

Then Xatu was tossed back towards the stone wall at the other side of the stadium at such a speed that it very nearly captivated everyone and gave his trainer barely any chance at all to react.

"Xatu, use _Barrier _for protection and your own _Psychic _to force yourself away from the wall!" It seemed like a proper counter attack at first sight. . . Unfortunately for Xatu, Misty wouldn't allow herself or Psyduck to let up on the offensive she'd created. How could she, when she knew her father was watching her progress, let alone the fact that everyone's lives, everyone she cared about, anyway, hung in the balance. . . ?

So Xatu, complying with his trainer's orders, used his psychic powers to counter Psyducks' and Psyduck, not being told anything different by _his _trainer, continued using his own powers against his opponent. Sadly, this created the disastrous affect of sandwiching Xatu on both sides and, due to the immense strength of both Pokemon's telekinetic power, it was something that not even a strong _Barrier _could defend against.

". . . Let it go, Xatu!" His trainer yelled, finally letting his confidence slip, but it was too late.

The compression of both _Psychic _attacks had done so much damage, including suffocating the bird Pokemon and crushing quite a few bones, and then, as he let go of his own control and it diminished, Psyduck was finally successful at sending him straight into the wall at the other end of the arena, shattering the stone around Xatu's body.

Psyduck was able to lose hold of his element and his eyes returned to normal now, too, and both he and Misty watched as the opposing Psychic bird Pokemon finally fell to the ground, limp, lifeless, and his trainer, a Rocket member but still a human being, could only kneel beside him in hopelessness as the referee verbally displayed the results of the match in a hollow voice, though it wasn't like anyone was really listening anyway.

Misty called her Pokemon back wordlessly and stood stark-still. She had won the match, finally, after three attempts. . . But this victory called for no type of celebration. . .

She had probably ended Xatu's life.

She had probably killed him.

An innocent Pokemon.

And though it looked to other people as though this didn't phase her, she knew more than anything else that tonight, not unlike any other night since she'd come here, she would yet again be spending those precious few hours she had for sleep on another motion.

It would be just one more night for endless tears.

OoO

It was a very strange feeling going through Jessie, Meowth, May, and Brock's bodies as the blimp-turned-submarine sky-rocketed through the ocean south of Pallet Town, Kanto region, with the combined strength of the nine engines and the slightly weakening current they'd been sinking upon before.

It was as if their nerves elongated, their insides writhing and stretching from the tips of their fingers, to the tops of their heads, to the bases of their ankles. It was like they were being sucked both from above and below, and twisted this way and that; and as they cried out, both out of fear and relief, one thought ran through all of their minds. . .

What would happen when they reached the surface. . . ?

As though in answer to their coupled question, they did, but, unfortunately, their push didn't stop there. They gripped their seats and felt their bodies tense as the force of power they'd used to save themselves before ripped their lives from their hands yet again.

They went blasting roughly high into the sky, and, with the efforts of the still functioning engines, maintained a height of over ten thousand meters for almost an entire minute. They were foolish enough to think for a moment that everything would indeed be alright as the water that had filled the cockpit before finally began to empty, seeping through the many cracks in the windows and the dents in the walls.

However, they didn't see to the fact that they were still rising, rising so high as to exceed their altitude level and, as if it was just their luck, the main system had just enough time to automatically reboot when an abrupt, scarlet warning flared into existence, causing everyone to rip their seatbelts off and leap from their places, forcing their way to the monitor to find out what was wrong. . .

"Oh, no! It says that we've got a major leak in our gas tank and all of the engines are failing because of it!" Brock shouted, then looked up to view the area outside, below them. He was able to recognize the plains just outside of Pallet Town and the beach and private docking area adjacent to the small city passing behind them.

They were going to make a crash landing right in the center of the town if they didn't do something soon. As if giving him incentive to think fast, Brock heard May elicit a small shriek beside him, feeling the blimp give a guttural groan. The floor below them creaked wearily as they heard two significant explosions making themselves known from the back-end.

Smoke billowed so strongly from the gaseous origin that it clouded their vision entirely and everybody was forced to hit the floor as, in reaction, the front windows shattered into a million pieces of fragmented glass, scattering everywhere.

"Me. . . ow. . . !" Meowth screeched as he painfully inspected where a shard had embedded itself in his tail. Jessie, Brock, and May reached their feet and the future breeder, losing himself in the anxiety of the situation, turned and threw Pikachu into the younger girls arms.

"Okay, May, listen to my instructions. . ." Brock started distractedly as he lifted the knapsack from his back and carefully dusted himself off before moving on to the chairs in front of the control panel and the dashboard.

"W - what are you doing, B - Brock. . . ?" May managed to stutter in terror and wonder, but it didn't last for long.

"Jessie and I have to stay behind, to guide the blimp safely into the Viridian Forest. . ." He started without looking at her, but he was swiftly silenced, surprisingly by both of his female companions.

"What!" Jessie shouted furiously.

"Yea, what! We - we can't just. . . What about Ash! What are you trying to do. . . ?" May continued, and Jessie took up the mike again after her.

"And James, too? If nothing else, we shouldn't be here; we should be back there, trying to find my partner and - and your twerp counterpart! I'm not going to stick around, otherwise!" She yelled defensively, and she crossed her arms for good measure.

"Yea, and I'm not going to do anything else either!" May finished and turned with an affirmative nod from Pikachu to take a seat where she'd been for most of the ride. She'd only taken two and a half steps when Brock's hand shot out and caught hold of hers, and she was forced to look back and pay attention to him.

"This isn't the time for that, May. . . !" He shouted at her ignorance, "So listen to me! Jessie and I _have _to stay back here to make sure that the people below us in Pallet don't die, otherwise I wouldn't be sticking around here, either!" May looked ready to interrupt him again but he knew what she was going to say and easily beat her to it, "Forget about Ash! He's strong enough to take care of himself and James, too, if it's needed. You know he's good for his word when he sets out to do something so don't worry about it. He won't allow himself to die until at least after he's found and saved Misty. So, now, May, now I want you to worry about nothing but yourself, Pikachu, and Meowth. . ." And Brock proceeded to unclip a Pokeball from his belt. He turned back and showed it to her.

"What about Meowth?" Jessie voiced strongly, and everyone's attention was sidetracked to her.

"Yea, what's d'is about da Top Cat?" Meowth replied as well, still nursing his injured tail.

"Brock, wh - what. . . ?" May started again.

"This is Crobat's Pokeball. I want you to catch a ride on him and get out of here. Land on the outskirts of Pallet and the Viridian Forest and send him back to me; wait for the rest of us there. I don't want you to do so much as take one step off of that pathway, unless someone tries to find you and asks any questions. I don't really expect much at this time as it's four in the morning, but you can never be too sure. So, here. . ." There was another expected sputter from the blimp and Brock quickly tore open his bag and pulled out a long, thick line of rope, "Meowth, get over here if you value your life. . ."

The catlike Pokemon did as told and slowly walked forward, and Brock, getting up, wrapped the rope tightly around May's waist, placing Pikachu in front of her, against her abdomen, and Meowth against her back. Then, when he was positive that the knot was tight enough, he grabbed hold of his Pokeball once again and threw it into the air.

There was a flash of red light and Crobat appeared, maximizing his wingspan lazily and awaiting instruction.

"Climb up here, May. . ." Brock helped her up onto the dashboard and held her there before turning back to his Pokemon, "Crobat, I need a favor. . . I need you to get these three to safety. Fly them down there. . ." The future breeder took a second to point to the area he'd told May about, ". . . and then come back here for me. Whatever you do, please, do not allow them to get hurt. . . I'm counting on you. . ." He said finally.

Crobat nodded, screeched, and flew forward, allowing May to use both of her hands to grab a hold of the bat Pokemon's claws. As Crobat began to test the waters of just how much of a lead weight his additional charges would be, May was given just a quick glance of the way she was about to tumble. The terrifying feeling inside of her multiplied by ten, and her knees began to quake.

"B - Brock, I. . . I'm not too sure about this. . ." May looked back and was calmed only slightly by the courageous grin on her older friend's face.

"Yea, and I don't think it's fair ta leave you two's here like d'is. . ." Meowth said with a glance in Jessie's direction.

"Pikachu Pi Pi Chu Ka Pikachu Pikapi."

"Pikachu here agrees wit' us. He says he has a bad feelin' about walkin' out like d'at. . . He says he has a feelin' d'at his trainer might not be in as good a shape as we think. . ." Meowth translated, but Jessie took over the conversation momentarily.

"Look, Meowth, no arguing. I don't like it either, but even if the twerp is in a little trouble, he has James, or at least his Pokemon. . ." She amended after thinking about the hopelessness of her partner, "And if James doesn't make it out alive, I'm going to kill him." She gave a smirk at the lack of logic in her comment.

"Yea, don't worry, guys. . . Here; to prove how confident I am that we'll all be okay, I'll keep Crobat's Pokeball. It's to prove that I know he'll come back for me and that we'll all be safe and together again shortly. . ." Brock grinned at May in particular, but somehow, this only scared her more, and she finally felt a couple of tears leak out from her eyes. Nevertheless, she found herself returning the gesture and smiling sadly back at him.

". . . A - alright. . ." She nodded and turned back, feeling the rapid gusts of wind whip her hair from her face. Sighing, resigning herself to what she was about to do, she held on as tightly as possible to Crobat's second set of wings, feeling the claws bite into her palms. . .

"_Goodbye_, May." Brock ended in a strong tone, and he gave her just enough of a push so that she finally took the dive, and she indeed went, screaming all the way, alongside Pikachu and Meowth.

Brock sighed as he sat back in the seat he'd been in momentarily before, and turned to face Jessie again, who'd been gripping her steering wheel as stiffly as possible to hold the blimp as steady as she could. He faced forward as well now, taking his own into his hands, because neither really knew what they wanted to say; they didn't know what their potential last words should contain. . .

Pride? Sorrow? Appreciation? Complaints. . . ?

If nothing else, the silence spoke more volumes than any quick spewing of words ever could. . .

OoO

Down below, James seemed to be weighing his and Ash's chances of survival. The younger Pokemon trainer was still unconscious and leaning uselessly over the Team Rocket members' shoulder. The horde of Tentacool were filed completely into the boiler room and were ready to unload an entire arsenal of _Poison Sting _attacks at the two, among other things.

And as James backed away - not that it would help any - his spine bent over the broken-down back-up system. He could hear the engines sputtering, whirring so excitedly that he knew something must have been going on out there.

Suddenly, the makeshift submarine gave a twirl and, left feeling slightly nauseous, he realized that they'd breached the surface of the water.

The higher into the air that they climbed, the more that he saw all of the flooding water tip outside the many shattered windows. As though sensing the change of atmosphere, all of the Tentacool faltered their attacks, which gave James a chance to allow Ash a large gulp of oxygen. The Pokemon began chanting their name in a loud screech to one another, confused as to what was going on.

James was relieved when he noticed that the water level had sunken to just below his forehead, around the bridge of his nose. A little while longer and he'd be able to breathe on his own, and Ash, too.

His attention was brought back to the many Pokemon facing him and he could tell that, through the argument they'd been having just before, they'd obviously decided that it was somehow _his _fault that they were in such a state of mind, and becoming more frantic every moment. And they'd also decided that an angry retribution was the best thing to do in retaliation, as they screeched again and began to secrete a black _Acid _from their bodies.

James recognized the danger and turned to run, but there was really nowhere to go. Deciding it was the best choice, he took off to his right, his motion slowed considerably by the fact that he was still mostly submerged in water. Being careful not to trip and lose his hold on Ash, he made it around one of the many six-foot-tall boilers and, using it as a defense, he withdrew a Pokeball from his waist.

"Go, Cacnea. . . !" James yelled, and the Pokeball opened without his throwing it, the Pokemon hearing his request, and the small green spike-ball emerged among the folds of red light with a small shout of his name. Pointing around the boilers, he yelled, "_Pin Missile_!" And the Pokemon nodded, taking off, floating just above the surface of the water.

Cacnea drew breath and waited just long enough for his large, rounded arms to glow white before shooting off hundreds of tiny needles at the school of Tentacool, making contact with a good amount of them.

"Keep at it, Cacnea!" James cheered him on hopefully. He'd never thought to be successful at such an important battle, and the thought that he _was _seemed to be giving him a ton of confidence. He then turned to inspect Ash again, to make positive that the Pokemon trainer was still alright, despite being unconscious.

The water level had steadily dropped to the Rocket boy's neck and so he put the small breathing device into his pocket as he leant down to the ground to peer at the younger boy blearily as his Pokemon dealt blow after blow at the Tentacool behind him.

After the water had begun to flow away, the blood from Ash's head wound had taken its chance to drip down his face, looking almost artistic as it formed a pathway around the features of his closed eyes and his slightly parted lips. Still cataleptic, he let out the weakest of pained groans.

"Hey, twerp!" James tried again now, taking Ash by the shoulders and shaking him with the greatest amount of strength he could afford, "Twerp. . . ? Damnit, when are you going to wake up. . . ?" The Rocket boy asked, knowing that time was running out if they were planning to escape before being scathed any further.

This impressionable thought was interrupted by the sound of some type of explosion. James turned and half-stumbled from his space on the floor and was able to catch sight of one of the boilers on the opposite side of the room bursting under the pretext of the Pokemon battle going on around it. The scalding heated air that blew from the large dented crack billowed powerfully forward and hit the boiler next to it; soon after that, the thermostats connected to each boiler on that half of the room showed that the temperature of the contents was spinning out of control, and they too burst in turn.

In response to this predicament, Cacnea and the Tentacool steered their battle in the opposite direction, towards the two young men. Cacnea seemed to be weakening under the stress of fighting so many adversaries at once, but he was still willing to go on. What happened next was so devastatingly shocking that James couldn't be positive that it was due to the catastrophic end of the controlled temperature sequence of the blimp or not; the end of the room where the back-up control system was, the one directly linked to the engines just beyond the wall, began to crackle with fierce electricity once again.

As this was obviously a bad sign, James turned back and heaved Ash upright from his space between a group of large pipes and the wall, throwing half of the younger trainers weight over his shoulder. He made it about three meters towards the exit leading to the main area of the blimp before the entire space of where he'd just been was completely eliminated by the final explosions of two of the engines outside.

The pressure from the wall being blown clean away made him lose his footing. As he fell, Ash went sailing from his arms, landing face-forward again some two meters away. James tried to rush to the younger boy's side again before he happened to breathe in any of the last foot of water still left along the floor, but he wasn't given the chance as the boilers closest to the decimated wall blew to pieces, exposing anything and everything that was close to it with the two hundred degree Celsius steam.

James was so caught by surprise, so thoroughly pained by the feeling of the shirt on his back basically disintegrating, leaving his flesh to sear, that he couldn't even find the time to yell out.

His knees hit the waterlogged ground and he continued to slowly and breathlessly make his way over to Ash's side, cautiously turning him over. For a moment, he thought that the unconscious trainer had stopped breathing. . . but it only seemed to be a trick caused by the questionable situation, as he couldn't feel his entire backside anymore, alongside the fact that the large hole blasted through the wall some seven meters behind him was sucking at every solid object it could.

For the first time, he realized that this posed a threat to his Pokemon's safety, which he would not allow if he could help it.

He quickly staggered to his feet, almost just as soon regretting it as the flesh on his back was left to feel as though it was easily peeling off. He glanced around in the direction of where he heard the Pokemon battle cries coming from and saw Cacnea, facedown and taking a beating. One of the Tentacool was holding him still with his _Constrict _while his fellows were continuously whipping him with their long jellyfish-like legs.

"Cacnea, return!" James shouted, holding up the familiar Pokeball and aiming it at his Pokemon. Luckily, the Tentacool seemed to have forgotten about him over the duration of their match against the sole Grass-type, and so they weren't expectant enough of this to block the Pokemon from view.

But now that their main opponent was gone, they had no one to turn their frustrations on. After all, they were some fifty miles away from their homeland, and about six hundred meters - at this point - above it.

James was forced to stare them down, uncomfortably aware that he hadn't planned this far ahead. He felt around for another Pokemon. Chimeco was useless at this point, and Victreebell wouldn't last for long. . . but he really had no other choice. The blimp was about to hit the earth, Ash still seemed to be out for the count, he, James, was being cornered by a group of ugly, giant, bug-eyed, fishy Pokemon, and, what was more, the pain of his massive burn seemed to be making his vision go spotty.

Not willing to wait, he reached toward his belt and successfully grabbed hold of Victreebell's Pokeball, holding it up and then. . . It was quickly slapped from his grip by one of the advancing Pokemon. The small red and white ball hit the ground, rolling one way and then the other as the blimp swayed menacingly. James barely had time to notice as it went rearing for the gaping exit that had formed itself in the wall.

"No!" He called out and leapt at it, hitting the ground so roughly that his back momentarily crippled him with pain. He held his arm out as far as he could, trying to grab hold of it, but thanks to the slick flooring, it slipped from his fingers and continued rolling, approaching the vast opening so fast that he couldn't dare hope to catch it.

Uselessly, he did try, scraping to his knees before he could consciously grasp the fact that it probably wasn't the best idea for him. Before he could even crawl one step forward, however, a random Tentacool grabbed a hold of his ankle and pulled him back. He tried to rip himself away, but the Pokemon's grip was so strong that he couldn't even pull his foot from his boot. Helplessly, he turned to watch Victreebell's Pokeball make its drastic fall. . .

. . . And, instead, just managed to catch sight of a large claw grabbing a hold of it as it hit the air. Managing to look up, he saw that the claw belonged to an average-sized Swellow, which was approaching him with a familiar look in his eye. James bowed his head and held his hands above him out of reflex and, about five seconds later, was shocked to feel that the slimy tentacles that had been entertainingly grabbing at him for the past few minutes had been forcibly removed.

Gathering his sanity and courage, the Rocket boy opened his eyes again and slowly sat up, ignoring the excruciating pain in his back as he did so. He saw the Swellow extending his left wing and sweeping about one-third of the opposing Pokemon into the feathered pan like place before moving to dump them carelessly out through the very large hole in the wall.

Knowing what this meant, recognizing that he was now safe (or, rather, as safe as he could afford to be at this point), James finally took a moment to catch his breath. As the Swellow flew overhead of him on his way to grasp the rest of the many scattering Water-type Pokemon, Victreebell's Pokeball was dropped into his lap. The Rocket boy clipped it back to his belt and reached his feet, hissing as he did so and realizing that the spots clouding his vision seemed to be multiplying quite a few times over now that he wasn't forced to stay conscious.

"I - I can't believe. . . you almost let me. . . miss this. . . !" Ash murmured in exhausted and breathless excitement from behind him, and the older of the two almost grinned as he jumped slightly from the shock of hearing his voice; of course Ash was awake. . . There was no way for Swellow to have known to carry out those attacks, otherwise.

"Oh, yes, you slamming your head back there. . . was obviously my fault. . . ! Twerp, I've been trying to wake you back up for at least a half-an-hour. . . You have no idea. . . just how pleased I am for once. . . to see any of your Pokemon out and kicking ass. . ." James said, equally exhausted. He reached his feet and limped to the younger Pokemon trainer's side, feeling more and more nauseous with every step he took, "We. . . need to get out of here. . . The place is guaranteed to blow, and soon. . ."

Ash, who was currently leaning unsteadily against one of the few intact boilers, looking bruised, battered, and ready to collapse again at any second, nodded, "Yea, I know. . . but what about Jessie and Meowth. . . ?" He rasped out in a croaky undertone.

James gave a wry grin, unable to help it, "Well, if I know them, Jessie is probably complaining about saving her precious hair. . . and Meowth is probably running with his tail between his legs. . . What about your friends? Unless you think that their loyalty to you is in question. . ."

"But Jessie and Meowth are your partners!" Ash replied, unable to hide his shock, "Anyway. . . Brock and May; they're smart enough to know that it's not worth sticking around here. . . After all, the point of this was to go and find Misty. What good would it do to die here and now. . . ?" The Pokemon trainer said as his Swellow finished evacuating all of the water-types and came to stand sturdy beside him, "Now, c'mon. . . If Jessie and Meowth actually do care about you, which I'm sure they _do_, then Brock will have convinced them that we'll find our own way out of here. . . Let's not disappoint them. We need to go. . . before we both end up too tired to keep a hold of Swellow. . ." Ash said sleepily as he climbed carefully on top of the bird Pokemon's back.

"Oh, it's too late for that. . . I'm already halfway there. . ." James managed to reply before he thought it through and came to the conclusion that the rest of his energy would be much better spent on keeping himself awake. He grabbed the hand Ash offered him and helped pull himself up, taking as good and as sturdy a seat as he could.

"Right. . . Hang on. . . !" Ash said, and Swellow took off, treading cautiously with the fragile things he was to be transporting.

Three wide steps later and the bird Pokemon had made it beyond the confinements of the battered looking air vehicle, soaring steadily away from the direction it was flying, aiming so low to the Earth that it would surely impact in the vicinity of the Viridian forest.

Eyes widening, Ash realized just how close to home he was. . . How long had he been out, anyway? But, clearing his head of those types of thoughts, he realized that it didn't matter.

And he turned his head as he steered his Swellow away from his home, and his family, as well.

OoO

Misty stared emptily at the plate of food in front of her, not feeling very hungry. Then, aware of the pair of eyes that were currently watching her, she glanced up at her father, Giovanni, who seemed to be silently questioning her lack of appetite. He knew, however, not to expect an answer from her and perhaps it was that more than anything else that left him speechless.

It was because of this that Misty grew more and more uncomfortable with the prospect of the topic she wanted to discuss. . . However, it wasn't like she could help it. She was so worried. . . ! She knew now that something had happened with Ash and the others, but, whatever that something was, she knew her father wouldn't tell her. Maybe that was because it was to do with them coming to rescue her. After all, that they would try so hard to find her as to threaten their own lives would only make her feel more indebted to them. And the last thing Giovanni needed was for her to rebel, claiming that she could actually beat him somehow.

But what if they were dead? What if they had lost one of their Pokemon - or more - to whatever means they were using to reach her here. . . ? She already felt helpless, useless, terrible enough with the way things were going. . . Could she live with herself if Ash, May, and Brock infiltrated the Team Rocket headquarters only to see her working against them, and after possibly losing so many valuable things?

It wasn't shocking that Misty was so caught up in these thoughts that she didn't even wonder about the possibility that losing _her _was the worst of all for them.

Either way, she had to find out something, even if it wasn't a detailed explanation of what was going on. And so she did something she thought she'd never do and cleared her throat, initiating a conversation with the man across the table. He looked up at her, and the expression on his face was barren, so she couldn't tell if he was shocked at her or if he'd expected it all along.

Not wanting to allow anytime to be sidetracked, she began.

"I want to know what's going on. What was it about, what your grappling defense referee said to me earlier today?" She could tell now, as she watched Giovanni's lips give a slight twitch; he'd expected this, he'd known she couldn't help wanting to grasp at the details of her friends situation, no matter how much of a speech strike she'd planned originally to play out for the duration of their evenings.

Nevertheless, and probably in terms of punishment, her father merely replied, "You know, or you should by now, that the retrieval of a new level card ignites your training and mission tasks with a different and higher quality team."

Misty held her tongue, literally, in a biting grip to keep herself from acting too rash. She knew that he was just toying with her. That was probably what everything was to him - a game. And though she didn't want to play, she knew that she didn't have any choice in the matter. And at this point, knowledge about Ash, May, and Brock's living conditions exceeded any humorous bullshit he was attempting to pull.

Lucky for her, he seemed to want to discuss something of it with her anyway, as his expression altered and he sat back in his seat, allowing a nearby Rocket member to come and sweep away his dishes, and then take Misty's as well, as though the man knew the conversation about to take place was going to be immensely personal, and knowing that making a sudden exit was for the best.

"Your training with Unit 'C', however, will be put on hold for the next seventy-two hours, starting as of 0600 tomorrow." He started, and Misty knew what was coming, "This is due to the fact that you will set out at said hour in order to complete your first mission. The amount of time it takes for you to complete it, and the success of the means you will be ordered to use in doing so will help me to assess your strengths and weaknesses as a Team Rocket trainer."

Misty, who had just barely begun comprehending that in less than twenty-four hours, she'd be seeing Ash again, felt something very heavy drop into the pit of her stomach.

"What - what's that supposed to mean. . . ?" She asked, and at the quake in her tone of voice, Giovanni gave a very indistinct shudder, as though thrilled with the fact that he was ruining so many lives.

"Tomorrow you leave to find your friends; as I hear, they're camping out on the brink of the Viridian Forest, recuperating from their journey here. You'll be sent out to greet them. . ." He smirked before continuing, "You'll be watched, so don't forget for even a moment of your befriending them that all of it is just a lie to, as some might say, lure them into a false sense of security."

She was staring at him with wide eyes and her mouth just slightly open now, finally coming to understand where he was going with this. It was obvious after her father had referred to Ash and everyone as her 'friends'. How many times had he told her that they weren't supposed to be that to her anymore, after all? But now, as she finally understood it, she could only gape at him open-mouthed. It was bad enough that he wanted her to bring Ash and everyone here, but now, before all that, he was telling her to. . .

"Deceive them; kill their trust in you in the worst, most complete way. I don't care what story you use to manipulate their behavior towards you, and I don't care how you bring them to me, except that they must be alive. After all, I want it to sink in, the fact that they believed in such a person, someone that they've always trusted, and someone who betrayed them without reason. I want that fact to torture them as they sit here in their holding cells for the rest of their lives. Maybe they'll turn to cannibals and begin to rip each other to pieces. . ." Giovanni broke off here to give an ever-blissful sigh, "However, one can only hope. . ."

Misty stared, dumbfounded at the man before her, the one and only she ever hoped to meet who expressed nothing but sheer joy at the thought of bloodshed.

Giovanni, meanwhile, reached his feet and took a few steps in Misty's direction. When he reached her side, he held out a Pokeball.

"This is not to be used in the midst of battle. The Pokemon inside should be strong enough to help you lug all of that dead weight back here. . . Figuratively speaking, of course." He said as she slowly raised her hand and took the Pokeball, clipping it to her waist without so much as a blink of curiosity, "Perfect. Remain so unconditional in your methods of acceptance, and you might just become something worthwhile here."

Misty snapped back awake at that, and moved to stare at the empty table in front of her for only two seconds before calmly reaching her feet.

"I'm excusing myself for the evening; I will present myself at 0545 tomorrow for any details you with to hand me on my mission. Until then." She clicked her heels as she did when ending a conversation with any superior officer and swiftly exited for her personal chambers.

"Just one more moment." He said aloud, and Misty was forced to a stop with the logic that, otherwise, she'd probably be in contempt, "There will be more of a package than you originally expected. I want you to bring the entire thing to me, if you don't mind." Of course, she _couldn't _mind, now could she. . . ?

"Affirmative." She replied simply before walking out the door and to her room.

An hour later, however, she was only left staring blankly at her ceiling in the almost pitch-black nothingness. And that nothingness, that darkness, entered through her ears and mouth and nose in order to contaminate her brain, which was still processing the emotions that were to be associated with her mission to locate Ash and the others.

Joy, unfortunately, was no longer one of them. Her heart leapt into her throat at the acknowledgement. How could she ever be joyful around Ash, May, and Brock when she was so well-aware about what she had to do to them. . . ?

Misery; this was the feeling she felt was strongest. Above all else, she regretted everything she'd ever done and everything she'd ever do to the point that her soul, her self, was nothing but a gaping chasm. The worst part about this feeling was that, in lieu of hoping everything would turn out well, she was almost brought to tears at the inclination that she'd practically rather like to see Ash, May, and Brock dead before anything else.

But her friends were alive, as Giovanni had allowed himself to let slip during their evening discussion. That tantalizing clue was enough, the fact that she still had a mission to complete was something. But whereas before, that thought would've relieved a large weight from her back, now it wasn't even the slightest comfort.

OoO

May's legs crippled beneath her as she hit the ground, almost crushing Pikachu against the forest floor. She sloppily reached her knees and ripped at the length of rope around her stomach, undoing the knot and allowing Meowth and Pikachu to fall away from her. Then she turned and saw Crobat was still floating there, so she wrapped the rope into a series of coils and handed it to him.

"Here; take this to Brock. It might be useful to him when he comes down."

_'When' _he comes down; that's right. It was good to think positive when you were in these types of situations.

After Crobat had left her there, she turned and stared in the direction of Pallet Town, just barely understanding that it was Ash's hometown. He'd lived there his entire life with his mom and 'The Great Professor Oak'. May smiled at the thought of her brother Max's reaction if she ever had a chance to tell him that she'd been this close to his oldest idol. But then, of course she'd get that chance. Why wouldn't she. . . ?

As though her mind had finally allowed itself to agree with her heart, she found herself sobbing. She was beginning to hate that ungodly feeling of feverish prickling behind her eyes, and the actual pulling on her heartstrings as her chest heaved. But the actual crying wasn't so bad. It was like every issue she had was flowing away with the tears. The only problem was, as soon as she stopped, those issues came straight back, and just as strong as before.

"Pikachu pipipi, Pika ka." Pikachu tried to console her, patting her soundly on the thigh, but it did no good. Her thoughts were consumed with the anguish, the fear, of the many outcomes of their situation.

What if Brock, or Ash, or Jessie, or James never made it out. . . ? What if only Jessie or James did, but they were unwilling to help anymore at this point? What if everyone did make it, but they were so wounded and traumatized that they couldn't go on? Or, worse yet, what if Misty really was already dead and this whole thing was ultimately pointless?

May shook her head; thinking things like that would do no good. Misty was alive; Ash would never allow her to die. He must have been alive, too, because, as Brock had said, he wouldn't let himself go before ensuring that Misty was safe. And Brock had to live, too, because he was like the father-figure of the group. He was basically duty-bound to make positive that Ash didn't end up getting himself killed on days like these. . .

But what about Jessie and James? May was almost sad as she admitted to herself that she didn't know them well enough to know how exactly they pulled through all of those 'Blasting Off's', nor was she willing to ask Meowth, because she might've just ended up bringing up horrible memories, but, either way, this was different. . . The only thing that gave her confidence in Team Rocket's survival was that they were with Brock and Ash, both of whom would never allow anyone to die if they could help it.

So now that she'd shaken those thoughts, what was she to do? According to Brock, she was probably better off making herself useful, keeping herself busy, so that those thoughts didn't return anytime soon. But what could she do? She couldn't cook anything, Brock held onto all of those supplies, and she couldn't groom her Pokemon because, well, she didn't have them. . .

"Come over here, Meowth," she said suddenly, shakily reaching her feet and removing her fanny-pack from her waist. She fell back to the earth again as the suddenly silent feline ambled over to her and stood there, not aware of what she was going to do to him, "Oh, don't worry. . . I - I'm just going to fix up your tail. . ." She explained to him, allowing him to see the tweezers, ointment, and gauze material that she was holding onto, "Gotta. . . gotta keep busy, gotta work until everyone comes back. . ." She rambled.

Meowth squatted before her and raised his tail above her lap so that May had a clear view of the piece of glass that was stuck there. Pikachu, who must have agreed with her about keeping busy, joined in assisting her. He went up front and took hold of Meowth's paw, knowing that he'd end up flailing out, otherwise, when the procedure was in the middle of being well-underway.

Just as May removed the glass shard from Meowth's tail, the feline set off a chain reaction in that he accidentally slashed his free paw across Pikachu's face. Pikachu squealed and was unable to hold back a weak Thundershock from coursing through him, which then went through Meowth, and then finally though May. Both of them screeched as the current wound its way around their bodies, but the feeling only lasted a moment before it was gone. They were left feeling a little ruffled, a little charged, and a little breathless, but otherwise, thanks to the immunity both had gained over the years, they were okay.

As impossible as it seemed to be in reaction to anything at the point they were at, the idea of the entire ordeal could only make them laugh, which they did, so much so that May had to wait a couple of extra minutes before she thought it was safe enough for her to finish wrapping Meowth's wound.

Just as she tucked the wrap under a layer of gauze (she was out of tape), she heard a slightly distorted shout from somewhere above her and the sound of rustling. Just as she was about to dive into the tall field grass behind her, dragging along Meowth and Pikachu, Ash and James, sitting unsteady on a familiar looking Swellow's back, crashed through the trees and landed roughly about three meters in front of her.

Yelping, May jumped to her feet and stepped back, allowing the dust to start settling before making a move to see if her friend and James were okay. Meowth and Pikachu joined her, too, hoping to make positive of their partners' good health as two square figures and an elongated, sweeping one appeared from beyond the instant fog. One of them lifted an arm and there was a short-lived flash of red before the largest of the three figures vanished.

"A - Ash. . . !" May called, coughing just slightly as she waved the thick dust away. She managed her way to the space just short of her friend's position, almost as though she doubted it was really him, as though she thought it was too good to be true. And as Ash and James came into her range of vision, she realized that it really must have been, as the two young men seemed to be grasping at each other to stay on their feet, "Are you two a - alright. . . ?"

"May. . . !" Ash gasped, as though until that moment, he hadn't even noticed she was there, "I - I need your help. . . James, he's a little. . ." He attempted to explain, but at this point, May could tell for herself that the Team Rocket trainer was unconscious and, by the look of the raw flesh glinting from his shoulders in the moonlight, he was burned badly somehow beforehand.

"Pikachu chu!" Pikachu cried out, deciding that at this point it was better to step back until he was sure his trainer could handle him.

"Hey, what da heck happened ta James!" Meowth screeched, half furious and half worried as he too placed some distance between himself and the others so he wouldn't be in the way.

May grabbed hold of James' other side and relieved Ash of most of the weight. As she found that she was able to accept it, she could only thank the past three years of training and traveling, as it'd obviously greatly increased her physical strength.

"Quick, Ash, here. . ." May started after giving the older trainer a chance to catch his breath, "In my pack is a heated type of space blanket. Set it out on the ground and help me lay James on his stomach. With all of this being outside, his injuries will have been aggravated. . . And yours, too." May eyed her friend closely as he lay the sleek silver blanket out on the ground, finally given her first glance at his head wounds, "W - what happened to you two, anyway. . . ?"

"I - I wouldn't know. . ." Ash started edgily, "I was out cold for most of it." After May had examined James' back and had begun to set to work tending to him, the Pokemon trainer allowed his Pikachu to leap into his lap, smiling grimly as though pained by it, but not saying a word in order to get his Pokemon to move, "My head just keeps. . it just won't stop pounding. . . ! Every part of me hurts too, like it's hoping to contribute to the headache. . . I keep feeling like I want to fall asleep, and go after Misty, and stay here to help you all at once. . . I just. . . don't know how to handle that type of thing. . . N - not right now. . ." Ash explained and May furrowed her brow as Pikachu glanced at him in worry.

"Yea, dat's great, Twerp. . . But how's James doin'?" Meowth spoke suddenly, almost clawing May's arms in his haste to reach the unconscious boy's side.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Ash started after an affirmative nod from the younger Coordinator, "But, really, I'm just glad to see you're concerned. The way he was going on before, James seemed to think that you and Jessie couldn't care less for what happened to him. . ."

"Yea, well, dat's why he's not known as da smart one of da group."

". . . So, what. . . what happened with you. . . ?" Ash began awkwardly, blinking up at May in such a way that he couldn't seem to help it, and she paused momentarily in her work, "I mean, I'm not so stupid so as not to have noticed that Brock and Jessie aren't here, which means that they must still be up there. . ." He took a moment to nod towards the blimp, still smoking, and which was hanging dangerously low in the sky now, ". . . And I know that you're a bit new to this momentary second of sacrifice thing, unlike me and Brock, so I'm wondering. . . if you're okay. . . ?" He finished softly, and May could feel herself starting to cry again, against her better judgment.

"I. . . I just. . ." She started in a strained whisper, "I just have to know. . how can you trust that everything will be okay! How can you not be worried! It's B - Brock, Ash, a - and Jessie! They're people we know, people we've known for years, and th - they're stuck up there, and we're down here, safe and sound. . . And we can't do anything for them! How can you be okay with that!" She finished, her tone having escaladed to a shriek over the course of her interrogation.

"I. . . You. . . You don't understand." He frowned at her as though he was disappointed, and then took hold of both of her hands as she attempted to return to aiding James, forcing her to stop again so that he had her undivided attention, and Meowth and Pikachu's, too, "I guess you really don't get it. . . May, something you have to know about me is that I - I'm always worried. I mean, c'mon, I'm Ash, remember? But I've been here long enough to know that a lot of the time, just sitting around a - and choosing to brood over it won't help. These types of situations are terrifying, _the thought of - of losing someone who's ultimately precious to you_. . . It's so frightening that some people even find it life-threatening, but. . . in the end, if all you can do to help it i - is. . . make sure that you survive and do what you have to do. . . Then I suggest you do that. Nothing else could make something like this worth it. . ." Ash finished, ". . . Right?"

The sun had risen without they're knowing it. May placed a series of bandages on James' back, refusing to answer Ash. She had been just a bit distracted during his speech because, for the shortest moment, she'd been sure that they weren't talking about Brock, or Jessie, or anyone here. For the shortest moment, Ash had looked at her with this expression in his eyes; it had been glaring at her, screaming, but she knew that she couldn't barely even begin to comprehend what it meant on her own. At least, not yet.

As though the Pokemon trainer knew he'd been caught, he grinned embarrassedly and reached his feet, swaying ever so slightly. Pikachu wavered on his shoulder before deciding that it was all for the best if he didn't weigh his trainer down. May joined her friend, yawning and stretching and glancing in the direction of the blimp that would be hitting the earth over a thousand meters away in probably only a few minutes. Faithful or not, if Brock and Jessie didn't show up soon after, she'd probably end up drowning herself in a permanent state of depression.

"Maybe we should, I don't know, gather up some firewood." May finally said, looking away from where her sights had been so thoroughly fixated only moments before, "When Brock gets back, we'll need to eat and then set out quickly. And Team Rocket will probably be begging for Pikachu to blast them off by then. . ." She chuckled, glancing down at her feet, where Meowth had curled up for a catnap, "I feel so bad for what we've done to them. . ." She whispered so that not even Ash could hear her, "So. . . I guess that I'll look for the firewood, and you could find a stream, get us some fresh water. We'll let Pikachu guard James for us until we get back, and then I can wipe the blood from your face and clean those cuts."

"Wonderful plan, really great of you to think that one up. . . I see only one problem." Ash replied, still grinning, though it looked different somehow than anything else she'd seen on him before.

"Uhm, and w - what's that. . . ?" May asked, although she really didn't want to know. Ash took a deep breath and began an explanation.

"That is. . . I hit my head about five or six hours ago. About three hours ago, I woke back up to being hung against a back boiler in a half-flooded blimp with a gaping hole in the wall and James being cornered by a school of deadly and poisonous Tentacool. I've stayed awake since then, through the rest of that less-than-perfect battle, through the trip down here on Swellow's back - which wasn't so bad until James fell unconscious from his burns, almost plunged off and ended up hitting the ground face-first - and also through the past hour and a half of sitting here, watching you help James, defending my opinions on this whole thing, etc. . . Basically, I know that, in about six more seconds, I'm going to collapse again and not wake up for at least another five hours," He broke off here for a moment, and when May made no inclination that she understood where this was going, he continued, ". . . I was just wondering something. . ."

"Er, uhm, what is it. . . ?"

"Could you catch me. . . ?" He asked dazedly, and, right on cue, his eyes wavered closed and the entire world went black for him. He tipped forwards and May, shocked, held out her arms and embraced his weight, hitting the ground and at the same time saving him from the impact.

"Pikapi. . . !" Pikachu cried out, hurrying over to May's side and throwing himself onto Ash's chest, "Pi chu pika. . . ?" He asked, looking up at May.

"I. . . He should be okay. . . I think he's just tired. . ." May hoped it was the answer the small mouse Pokemon was looking for, but she didn't have much of a chance to dwell on it, because at that moment, almost two thousand meters away, the blimp they'd used to get this far made its crash-landing, and the effect was so deafening that it reached her, and Pikachu, and the rest of them, debris and gravel and tree branches and a million other things flying at them from the general direction of the hurtle.

Before she could even think of defending herself, something large and heavy collided with the back of her head. She heard Pikachu give a wail, but had no time to wonder what had happened as she immediately passed out.

OoO

Misty was unable to gain a moments rest. When she blinked for probably the thousandth time and heard the knock on her lodgings' door that signaled it was time for her to move out, and when she indeed felt the very first breath's of early morning sunlight on her face for the first time in a week; and when she wound her way distractedly through the Viridian Forest, keeping her distance from the very confusing scene that was an entire cities worth of civilians, emergency news casts, and a group of Viridian police officers, including the slightly overzealous Jenny, that stood before the immense wreckage that, before, would have been a perfectly useful air transport vehicle, she felt so completely imprisoned still that it chilled her to the bone.

The coordinates that Giovanni had given her showed that Ash, May, and everyone were just beyond a close-knit group of oak trees that stood out in front of her. It took every ounce of perseverance she contained not to run straight through and throw herself at them, which she couldn't afford to do. She was being watched, she had to stick to the plan, and the story she was to relay to them all.

She nodded, taking a deep breath and unclipping a series of Pokeballs from the belt that fit loosely around her waist, tossing them into the air and revealing Politoad, Seadra, Staryu, and Starmie. Without a word, she sent them off with a wave of her hand. They already knew what to do, and to wait until she gave them the signal. After she was again alone, she leant down to the space around her right thigh, removing a small, pocket-sized blade from a pouch there.

Flipping it in her palm and biting at her tongue, she wasted next to no time drawing it across her cheek, twice along one of her shoulders, and then roughly against her clothes, all to give the impression that she'd escaped a little worse-for-wear from the Rocket Headquarters, suppressing the yelps that threatened to escape her. She was already perspiring, both from the ten mile walk and from the anxiety of what she was about to do. . .

She replaced the blade and darted past the thick knot of branches, deciding that there was no methodical manner she could've used to approach the situation, relieved to get the bright afternoon sun out of her eyes.

If their physical conditions did nothing to dissuade her from her plans, then Ash, May, and Brock's reactions to seeing her again gave her the distinct impression that crawling under a rock and never returning to the surface of the earth was the only thing she could use as retribution for how she was going to abandon them.

"M - Misty. . . !" They started in chorus, staring at her as though they thought themselves delirious and blinking bemusedly, trying to will her away, but she was indeed there, looking just as bad as any of them. . .

"Misty, oh my god. . . !" May cried out, first to reach her feet. Her head was wrapped in bandages, her face streaked with tears, her clothes thoroughly worn through, and yet a brilliant smile found its way to her as she stumbled forward, practically throwing herself at the redhead, "Y - you're here, y - you're okay, you're. . . How? Guys, it's really her!" The brunette continued ranting, turning to face them, "She's back, she's alive, she's. . . bleeding. . . but she's alive, still!"

"G - guys. . ." Misty croaked, but was interrupted by Brock, Pikachu and Ash forcing themselves on her in that order, almost sending her to the ground. She nearly laughed, but as the self-inflicted wounds came into contact with them all, she could only bite back a bitter hiss.

"Misty, w - what's going on?" Ash started, but with a look from Brock, he revised the statement as the group of four stepped back to allow her some breathing room, "I - I mean, I'm so glad you're alright, and you're here, and I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you last time, and I swear to god that I'll never let that happen again." He finished in one breath, gingerly regaining his seat and pulling her along with him, "I promise you that we'll get back at him, but first, what's going on? How'd you get here? What happened with Giovanni?"

"Ash!" Brock started off with a painted bite in his tone, "Maybe you should wait to ask all of this. Maybe Misty would like a chance to relax, and eat something--"

"No, no, Ash is right. I should try and explain; all of that other stuff can wait for now." She emphasized as May tried to pull up next to her with her meager amount of medical supplies, "I mean, I have questions for you guys too, you know? I think it's best to have them all answered as soon as possible."

"O - oh, alright then." Brock seemed to be quite startled by her refined response, but then he shook himself from it, "But we should try and be quiet; those three have just settled down for a rest." He nodded behind him and Misty turned curiously, almost throwing herself from her seat at the sight of the bumbling villains of Team Rocket flat on the ground and snoring alongside each other in such a way that it frightened her not to have noticed them until then, "So, do you want to start off first or should we?" He asked, correctly interpreting her shock.

"I - I don't. . . I mean, maybe you should. . . but I could always. . ." She attempted to reply, but she couldn't come up with anything first-off.

"Okay, then, we'll go first. . . but only if you choose to eat something." Ash said, patting her on the shoulder in an overwhelmingly relieved sort of way, "Brock's gone to all this trouble to make his famous beef and vegetable stew, and I'd think he'd be personally insulted if you turned him down. Besides, I can hear your stomach growling from here; when was the last time you ate something?" He asked in such a way as though he was determined to keep talking.

"I thought we agreed that you'd answer my questions first. . ." She replied awkwardly, finally accepting the bowl that they handed her and taking a bite. Surprisingly, after the first one, she couldn't seem to stop eating, "How did you get here? What - what caused. . . all of this. . . ? And how are they involved?" She pointed her spoon at Jessie, James, and Meowth, still sleeping peacefully behind her.

As she sat there, listening very attentively to the tale that seemed almost too unbelievable to be true (comments like, "You mean that - that thing back there - that blimp - was yours!" were swiftly followed by, "Team Rocket was actually useful!"), Misty found herself feeling far more diabolical than she could've ever imagined beforehand. Everything about where she was, who she was with, it all made her feel so. . . The term 'homesick' came to mind more than once. It was such a friendly atmosphere she was apart of again, minus the countless cuts and things scattered over the many parts of her friends bodies, and the evening chill that bit at her back as the sun set.

Quite a bit of time had passed before the story was finally coming to a close. The moon was high in the sky, the darkness almost parting like a sea to show it to everyone, and Jessie, James, and Meowth had woken up twice to get something to eat and drink. They never said a word to any of the legit trainers, nor did they grace Misty with so much as a glance of acknowledgement. She was actually a bit miffed about this, until Brock decided an explanation was worth giving.

". . . And after Jessie and I tied our arms together and jumped from the blimp with Crobat and Dustox, we only got so far. . . You see, the explosion happened just after, and we were sort of blown away. Luckily, the rope didn't break so we were still together when we landed, and we made it here before May, Ash, and James woke up again. Pikachu was awake, but, unfortunately, that was only because, during the blimp's impact, he was caught painfully by a sharpened branch going straight through his tail. . . He - he should be fine, though. . ." Brock sighed, and Misty, horrified, noticed for the first time the bloodstained bandage wrapped around the electric Pokemon's backside.

"Funny thing. . ." May started up in his place, "I woke up a little while after that to Jessie screaming her head off at him. I mean, normally we'd all be used to it, seeing as its Jessie and all, but surprisingly, she was yelling for James' sake and not her own. He was still out cold, but she knew he was hurt bad. . . If I hadn't interrupted her, she'd have probably killed Brock in a rage. It was a bit scary, actually. . ." May shuddered at the memory, then yawned widely, "After I was able to tell her just what was wrong with her partner, she kinda went all quiet, and she just went and sat down beside him until he woke up. That part was even worse. The only reason the three of them haven't left yet is because he's not really able to move on his own. We figure giving them a couple of meals is the least we can do for them right now. . ."

Misty nodded in agreement as she stared at the three huddled forms of her former enemies and, though they didn't know it yet, current allies. Then she took a moment to yawn, pinching at her thigh to keep herself awake. Seeing as sleep hadn't come at all the night before, she was rightfully about to collapse from fatigue just now.

"Well, look, it's not the safest option, but I think we'd all better get some sleep." Brock told them all wisely, "I mean, we'll be useless later on when we're most needed if we don't accept what we require now. I guess, though, we should probably keep a guard up, to alert the rest of us if something happens." He looked uneasily between them all as though knowing none of them would choose to volunteer at the moment, "I guess that I'll--"

"--I'll do it." Ash said, "I mean, I've already spent most of the day unconscious; I suppose that I can afford to sit up for a few extra hours. Besides, I need to carry my own weight. I'm not upholding my title as 'Resident Hero' as well as I should be, am I? I mean, James has started to outdo me." He joked, but defeated the purpose of such logic by blinking sleepily soon after.

". . . Er, alright. . ." May agreed awkwardly, and then turned to Misty, "I guess that means that you can use his sleeping bag, since you probably didn't have a chance to gather yours on your way out of the Team Rocket HQ." She smiled at Misty, who opened her mouth to say something, before continuing where she left off, "Now, really, we'll hear your story tomorrow, but c'mon, it was a bit obvious what means you had to use when you got out of there. I mean, it's not like they'd just let you leave. . ."

Unfortunately, the young coordinator really had no idea. Nevertheless, Misty only nodded in acceptance of this plausible excuse. It fit well with the rest of the novel she'd cooked up for them, anyway.

After everyone was all settled down for the night, after the campfire had been almost fully extinguished and the sound of deep even breathing rose from almost every lump of a figure around him, Ash laid back against an oak tree on the edge of the clearing, allowing the uncomfortable feeling of the bark against his backside to set in, forcing him to remain awake. He grinned, his vision fleeting in the almost total darkness as his eyes rested on his familiar red sleeping bag.

It was so easy and hard at the same time to believe it. . . The fact that through all of their suffering, the pain everyone had gone through recently, Misty had been returned to them. They hadn't had to fight a war, or infiltrate an evil base, or kill anyone or anything to get her back; she'd just. . . shown up at his doorstep, so to speak.

The smile that had been so evident, so radiant, before, slouched and disappeared, a frown appearing just after. That was the problem, alright. It was just so wrong. They'd gone through hell and back to get this far, that was true, but that Misty would just show up out of the blue, slightly wounded, but otherwise okay. . . She wasn't complaining that her Pokemon had been taken, which meant she still had them all. . . But she'd been back almost an entire day, and no one from Team Rocket had come to try and retrieve her. . . ? Didn't Giovanni know she'd escaped yet? Didn't he have a feeling about where she'd go, who she'd try to find? For someone with so much evil influence, he sure didn't seem to have a strong handle on anything to do with this situation. . .

There were just so many questions, so many instances, to wonder about.

But Ash knew better than to dwell on it. After all, for now, Misty was with him, and she as safe; they were all safe. Even if just for a little while. He'd just have to wait until tomorrow. That was when he could ask whatever he wanted of her. That was when they could start planning some new way to take Giovanni out.

Tomorrow, Misty would ease any worries he had that something about all this just wasn't right. It was something to count on.

The next thing anyone would learn about Ash, however, was that he was not very perceptive. Through the hours he lay awake, roving his vision between his friends, he didn't notice the four times that Misty jumped awake in his sleeping bag after lasting about an hour in each nightmare that went through her head. After she realized that there was no disgusting creature sitting before her, waiting to take her to hell, she'd lay restless for the next forty-five minutes, agonizing over the details of the story she'd have to relay to all of her friends, and then. . .

As though it could make her feel better, she withdrew her head softly under the covers and sighed. Indeed, this left her feeling so many things, distress and fear, and contentment and guilt. First, she felt a series of memories crash over her like a wave, for this was what she did whenever she had something to think about late at night. This was what she'd resorted to her first evening out on the road, away from her home for the first time ever, wondering about how she'd achieve any dreams she really had for herself; this was what she did, too, on her first night with Ash. At the time, she'd never really considered that they'd become the best of friends, but it was just like him to do so, proving the potential for something great out of nothing. She did this with Togepi a few times, too, years ago, almost reenacting the way the little egg closed his head, folding it into his shell. And there was only one more time where she clearly remembered doing this, and that was. . .

It was the night she'd figured out her feelings for Ash.

Misty shook her head and groaned, turning ever so slightly so as to stretch her back. It wasn't the time to think about that, not now, not when she was so close to doing this.

But then, she couldn't prevent the next feeling that came over her; it was comfort. It was the last thing she deserved to feel at this point in time, but she couldn't seem to stop it, and on a subconscious level, that made her feel even worse. It was because she was in Ash's sleeping bag, she knew, and quite suddenly, she could smell him. He smelt of soap, but it was mixed with the elements. He smelt of earth, wind, and fire. It was so strange, and unique, and comforting. . . all of which she couldn't stand, and that was because it was him.

Nine hours, thirty-seven minutes, and twelve seconds later, Misty was staring into yet another one of Brock's famous dishes alongside all of her friends and Team Rocket, only she wasn't eating. It was obvious to her why, but Ash, May, and Brock, having not seen her in a week, and not being any the wiser to her 'mission', were forced to draw their own conclusions and, though none of them were accurate, they took a great deal of imagination to think up, and even more time to sort out and explain away.

"No, really, I'm fine, or, rather, as much as can be expected after all that's happened. Besides, I owe you guys a grasp-the-edge-of-your-seats story, like the one you gave me yesterday." She said, holding up her arms and grinning in an off sort of way, which none of them really noticed.

"Well, then, I call dibs on the first question." Ash called out from across the campfire, holding Pikachu in his lap, "I want to know about your father, first of all. What did he have to say to you after going to such lengths to get you to him?" He asked.

"Oh, w - well, I never. . . I never actually met him." She lied. They're reactions were not unlike she expected of them.

"What?" They cried out in unison.

"But that's just. . . I mean, not to say we're complaining or anything, but. . ." Ash sputtered, "But all the crap he's caused to get to you, you were with him for an entire week and he didn't even meet with you?" He scoffed, "The guy's crazier than I thought, then. So, you don't even know why they took you? I mean, do you know if they planned to kill you? How'd you get away?"

"Oh, er, I. . . well, I don't think that they planned to kill me, actually, but maybe they just hadn't had the chance yet, or maybe they didn't plan on it anymore after they got that disc back. I mean, why waste good technology on a useless murder? It'd just draw more attention than they're looking for right now. . . They did take my Pokemon for a little while, but they didn't lock them up anywhere. I mean, it's not like I have anything special, you know? So they just kept them out of my hands so I couldn't escape. Or, rather, they tried to, but that - that was how I got away. I managed to - to grab Politoad's Pokeball from the counter outside my cell and cause enough of a disturbance so that I could run. Then, when I was rushing, I found this room full of laundry and I, er, picked up a spare uniform to disguise myself in and got out of there. The beret fell off while I was running through the forest." Misty explained.

"Well, that's interesting. . . It seems that Giovanni isn't the underground crime lord we've mistaken him for over the years. . ." Brock commented thoughtfully, but Jessie, taking the insult to heart, stood up suddenly in defense, "He's definitely not adept at keeping his prisoners under ironclad surveillance, anyway. . ."

"Hey, don't underestimate the boss! He's a brilliant strategist and leader! H - he's probably just waiting for a perfect opportunity to strike!" The Rocket girl replied in respect for the man.

"They why are you still here?" Brock asked her irritably, "I mean, really, how do you think he'll react if he finds out you helped us, your enemies, get this far? I doubt he'll be pleased." When nobody responded to this, he turned back to Misty so that she could continue her story, but not before adding as an afterthought, "Look, you'll have to forgive us for not being so fond of your boss. . . You see, we tend to have a problem liking people who kidnap our friends and try to kill us all. I mean, you know, no offense to you guys, but. . ." He cleared his throat, "I'm not trying to blame anyone here, or get rid of you. You guys can be kind of good company when you're not loud and annoying, but this conversation's really important, so we'd like it if there weren't anymore interruptions, unless it's a worthwhile question." Then he finally turned back to Misty.

"So, you say you were stuck in the Team Rocket base for the entire week?" May's brow furrowed in wonder, "But, that means you escaped between yesterday and today. That's so weird, not to mention lucky, you know, how you found us so fast. I mean, how'd you know where to look?"

"Well, actually, that was what made me plan my escape at that point in time; just sitting in that cell, I was bound to overhear things. And one night, Giovanni came down and I listened to him inform the men watching me that you were nearby. He was telling them to expect any type of entrance or whatever from you, seeing as I was such a great friend and you'd try nearly any method and means to break me out."

"Y - you mean, he knew we were here. . . ? B - but. . . that could mean that he's watching us right now!" May yelped, jumping to her feet, "This is really bad, guys! Now that Misty's back, he'll try even harder to come after us now while we're resting up! We're not anywhere near ready for a hostile Team Rocket melee! W - we should do something, pack up and move, head to the city to restock our supplies, a - and we might have to do something about _them_." She finished in emphasis with a nod in Jessie, James, and Meowth's direction.

"Hey! You have no right ta kick us ta da curb!" Meowth started in defense, "You's is still plenty indebted ta us!"

"Yea, and we're not just going to leave; we can't! James can barely stand on his own yet!" Jessie continued heatedly, "Pushing him now will only make him worse; he'll probably catch fever and possibly die!" She, too, reached her feet, matching May temper for temper, but the Petalburg native wasn't backing down on her own.

"Maybe so, but whose to say you guys aren't the ones alerting Giovanni to our whereabouts! Either way, we can't just lay around here like sitting Psyducks! We'll be taken captive, or killed, or something even worse, probably. . . !" She cried out hysterically.

"A - at least Corsola's safe. . ." Misty murmured, facing the memory of how she sent him back to the Rustboro Pokemon Center, but her train of thought was broken by Ash reaching his feet as well, rummaging along his waistline and pulling a familiar type of Pokeball, a blue-green one with symmetrical orange stripes on either side, and handing it over to her.

"Actually, well, we thought you sent him to us intentionally to remind us to use the Nav's to find out where you were and because of that, we assumed that you'd wanted us to bring him along, so you could have him back. . ." He told her, then, at the expression of utter horror that dawned on her face, he frowned, "Were we wrong. . . ?" He raised his voice ever-so-slightly since she didn't answer him immediately, as Jessie and May continued yelling in the background, "But, Myst, why's his safety so much more important than any of your other Pokemon. . . ?"

Beside him, the ever-evident catfight between May and Jessie continued to escalade, and Brock, James, and Meowth, not wanting to get involved, stood back and listened to what each fiercely competitive young woman had to say, but that was ruined only two seconds later by Misty, who found the strength in her to yell louder than the both of them combined.

"You. . . You idiot!" She shrieked, so many different negative emotions coursing through her as she rounded on her best friend, "You've ruined it! Oh, God, what should I do. . . ? God, Ash, what were you thinking? I - I don't know how I can protect you all now; oh, no, I'm sorry, Corsola, I tried to keep you out of it all. . ." She ranted, taking the Pokeball from Ash's hands and holding it to her in a motherly fashion, then clipping it to her belt and glaring in a menacing sort of way at the boy, "You've got no idea what you've done, do you? God, I can't believe things could go so wrong!" She threw her hands up into the air before pointing insanely at him, "And it's all your fault, Ash!"

While this was going on, Jessie and May had yet to shut their mouths long enough to allow the illogical face of it all to set in, and James, Brock, and Meowth felt tears of joy running rapidly down their faces as they looked on, embracing the familiarity of it all.

"Ah, it's just so good to be back. . . !" Brock managed to comment as he watched Pikachu charging up for a reactive _Thundershock_, "Life's so wonderful. . ."

Meowth and James could only nod earnestly in agreement.

Two and a half hours later, the campfire had been extinguished, all of the cooking and sleeping things had been packed up, James had managed to trek the length of the site twice with the physical support of Jessie, and the group had decided that the best thing to do would be to head to the nearest town and explore the Pokemon Center and Mart there. This would have meant going to Pallet Town but Ash, not wanting to risk running into his mother or Professor Oak and being forced to explain why he was in the Kanto region, injured, and traveling with such a strange assortment of companions, didn't agree with that, so they started their march in the direction of Viridian City instead.

Team Rocket was obviously going to accompany the group of legit Pokemon trainers, which was both wise and stupid of them. With two-thirds of the team injured, they were basically useless on their own, but as Brock had said earlier, if Giovanni became aware of how Jessie, James, and Meowth had helped them out, the boss-man was not likely to be welcoming them back with open arms.

By the time the sun was beginning to set, however, they'd made very little progress. With all that had been going on lately, everyone became tired and hungry rather fast, and so they'd set up camp again only about five hours after their first day back on the road, and after having only made it past a mile or two through the Viridian Forest.

All throughout the day, something had been bugging Ash. It was something important, he knew, but he couldn't grasp anything more specific than that. So it continued to eat at him at random moments and not until Brock started setting things on the fire for supper, not until the future breeder happened to bring it up in a casual discussion that he just happened to overhear, did Ash realize what this thing was.

"Hey, Misty, there's something I've been meaning to ask you." The breeder started in a sensible tone as she sat across from him, leaning back against the log on the opposite side of the fire.

"Hmm. . . ?" She responded sleepily, and so he chose to get straight to the point.

"What you told us today, something stuck out in my mind. . . You said that you never met Giovanni, right? You said that all you basically did was sit around in your cell for a week." He waited for her next nod of ascent before continuing, "Well, if that's the case, then. . . how did you know it was him that you overheard telling the guards where we were. . . ?"

The alarms started ringing madly in Ash's head as he stared determinedly at Misty's back for any reaction she might have had to Brock's inquiry. Of course, she had an excuse for that; how could she not? But. . . His eyes widened as he felt his heartbeat pick up, racing drastically as the organ jumped into his throat, dropped into his stomach, and then retraced its steps. Was that a deep, uneven intake of breath he noticed coming from her?

He'd hoped to be imagining it, but that hope was quashed when he noticed that everyone else had stopped what they were doing to listen to what she had to say in response as well. As though he hadn't threatened the peace enough, Brock chose to restate his question and continue prodding at the hole in her otherwise plausible tale.

"I mean, you - you said you never met him, right? So you wouldn't have known him by looking at him, and as far as calling him by his name, well, the only term I've heard being associated with him from a Team Rocket trainer would be 'boss', but 'boss' could also be used in respect for _any _superior officer. In such a huge organization, with tens of hundreds of thousands of members, how did you know that one man you'd never met, you'd never seen before, was him?" He asked sensibly, and he stopped whisking at the food in the fire as well to hear what the girl had to say.

Ash thought for just a moment that she was going to come up with something. For one moment, he seriously expected her to turn and face him and explain that away just like everything else he'd been wondering about. All of the uneasy looks, the way she'd been so. . . strange, not eating earlier, but then totally relaxed later on. And then the few things he'd been thinking of the night before hit him. .. No one had been following her, at least, no one that had revealed themselves yet. She'd retained all of her Pokemon despite being held captive by a man for a week, one who'd been chasing after her for years. And another thing, after finally catching her, after exhausting all of his resources and armies, sending them all over the world to find and take her, Giovanni had never, ever shown her his face?

Misty finally did reach her feet, and she did turn to face them all, and she did open her mouth to say something, but Ash noticed, too, that she was slowly but surely backing away from them, and she'd only be doing something like that if. . . if she felt that she had something to fear from them all. . .

Eyes widening, Ash put a nimble foot forward, and as he made it passed the ten meter distance placed between him and the redhead, he quickened his pace, raising his arms and feeling an unfamiliar fury course through him as he reached her front.

"W - where is Misty, the real Misty! What did you do with her!" He shouted in anger, holding this person down by their shoulders, "Tell me now!"

It was the longest three seconds any of them had ever had to live through. Misty stared back at her best friend of six years, her eyes roving around his facial features; his dark eyes, his complexion charred away with bruises and cuts, his hairline, partially engrossed in the thick bandage that wound its way over the right entirety of his head, and his lips, open just slightly as he grit his teeth, disbelieving to the fact that she would ever lie to him, believing in such a way that because she had, it couldn't really be her.

But it was, and, knowing that she had to get that fact across, she replied, "She's right here, waiting for you to let go of her." And his grip slackened in horror, allowing her to remove it. Not looking at him, she then bent ever so slightly, drawing the blade she'd used before to cut herself from her boot, holding it up high above her so that the silver steel and bloodstains glinted off of the sunset.

Everyone had two seconds to look confused before a series of Pokemon jumped out from the sky, dropping on Misty's friends one at a time. The redhead watched as May screamed before being hit from above by Politoad's _Body Slam_. Staryu and Starmie knocked Jessie, James, and Meowth out simulateously with a double _Rapid Spin_, colliding against the back of their heads.

Ash, still closest to Misty, turned and saw how more than half of the group had been cut down in a matter of moments by the Water Pokemon, and he realized that he had to do something, "Pikachu, use. . . !" But as he felt the brutally cold and sharp tip of the small pocket knife against his neck, he faltered, feeling Misty press herself to him.

"Look," she started in a low and silky tone, "my father said that I'm not allowed to kill you, but I could just as easily render you permanently speechless. I will not let Pikachu be of any use to you." She continued, nodding affirmatively to Politoad, who clapped his hands and kneeled down in front of the electric mouse, using _Hypnosis _to put him to sleep. In their weakened state, May and Team Rocket were subject to it as well, "Now, you two," at this point, she caught Brock's attention as well, "Do I have to worry that you're going to try something?"

She was answered almost immediately by Ash catching her off-guard, grabbing her arm and twisting it so that the knife fell uselessly to the ground. He let go and she stumbled back, hissing in pain, and noticed a little too late that Ash was grabbing her by the shoulders again and forcing her to the ground. She tried to sneak her way away from him, but he wouldn't budge; he pinned her down more securely, coupling her legs with his own.

"Brock, make sure everyone's still okay. . . !" Ash yelled, but Brock had no chance, seeing as all of Misty's Pokemon just as soon had him surrounded, "You!" He said, turning back to her, "If you are Misty, something must be wrong with you! Were you brainwashed or something?" He asked, leaning forward and squinting into her eyes as though hoping to see any type of physical affliction to prove that indeed might have been the case, but there was nothing, "You. . . It's really you. . . ? Misty. . ." He said, but that was about as far as he got before she closed in on him with a wicked grin on her face.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Ash." She said loudly, then, in such a low whisper that he almost didn't hear, "I'm. . . so. . . sorry. . ." Then she bit roughly into his neck, so much so that Ash was forced to let go of her. He jumped up to inspect the injury and, dragging his hand away from his neck, felt the blood smearing across his palm.

He looked up and saw Misty reach her feet again, then was swiftly tackled from behind by Seadra, followed by Staryu and Starmie, who'd just finished with Brock. As the Pokemon trainer fell to his knees, he managed to raise his head high enough to see Misty pick up the knife that he'd forced her to drop before, and, closer still was Politoad, prepared to put him to sleep, but he turned his head and shut his eyes so as not to be affected by it.

"Fine, then. Just remember; you're the one who made this difficult." He heard Misty say, "Psyduck, pick him up." He turned to see the small yellow duck chant soundly, having appeared out of nowhere, his eyes turning blue, and Ash felt weightless quite suddenly as he was pulled upward by an invisible power.

"W - why. . . ? Why are you doing this. . . ? Misty. . ." He asked, pleading with her to stop as she closed in on him.

"I'm doing this because I was told to, because it's the best thing I could ever hope to do right now." She replied, then, without any further motion, she said, "Goodnight, Ash." And the boy felt the impact of her kneeing him in the abdomen.

And he embraced the darkness so as not to have to look at her anymore.

OoOoO

**Notes **- Ugh. Over twenty-thousand words. That's it; I'm taking a vacation. I'm packing up my things and I'm leaving the country for a year. No more updates. I quit "Illicit Saints", too, simply because. . . well. . . look at it. It's huge! It's now the longest thing I've ever written, and it's only five parts long so far! Plus, this chapter is the longest I've ever written, too. Oh, poo; so much writing. . . And I loved every minute of it. Isn't that sad? I did, though. Evil Misty is fun. And Ash was all sweet and romantic and. . . Do you think I gave him too much of a brain at some point? Oh, and James wasn't as much of a hero as I originally planned him out to be, but, well, if Ash had been unconscious for any longer, I know I'd have broken some unspoken law that says he's supposed to be the all-time hero and that type of thing's probably illegal or something. Oh, I'm rambling. Oh, well, that's what authors' notes are for, anyway, right? Uhm. . . yadda, yadda, yadda-yadda, yadda. Lol. No, I won't do that again.

You guys are twisted! What the heck! After the third part was added, I got at least two or three people on my case saying that I should work on making the chapters shorter, and, last time, I did that and everyone was saying that I should keep them extra long! It was only a couple hundred words shorter anyway, but really; what's wrong with you all? Either way, maybe this makes up for it. Really. Over twenty-thousand words of uber-loveliness by yours truly. I am yours, truly, my friends, as long as you keep reviewing. Lol. I just love getting reviews. They really do make my day.

Oh, more special thanks to **Tsuiraku Etowa-ru** and **gladdecease**, because 1.) they both reviewed, 2.) they're reviews were longest and most appreciative, and 3.) they expressed the most gratitude for my continuing to update, and (at least one of them) said that they would continue to read anything I ever wrote, simply because it was me who wrote it. Awe, you two are so sweet! I feel so loved that I might just end up dancing tonight! Only, not really. . . I'm fat. Dancing would only cause natural disasters all over the world. Lol.

Anyway, I have only one last note to make! And, as it's expected of every author, you probably already know what it is! Er, I just wanted to say, PLEASE REVIEW AGAIN! I. . . I like reviews. They're uber-fun to read, and they make me feel like a giddy schoolgirl. And I hardly ever feel like a giddy schoolgirl. Lol. . .

**Spoiler for Chapter Five** - Ash and friends get their first ever glance of the Team Rocket Headquarters. Jessie, James, and Meowth, too, are faced with a certain one of Giovanni's opinions. Ash and Misty's relationship is six-feet-under, thanks to her betrayal. However, she never actually intended on that. She's still hoping to find a way to help them out, but in the meantime, is keeping a very close eye on them all while they're being held captive in the Rocket prisoner cell block. Then something unexpected and horrible happens. Her taking a stand and preventing the assault of one friend causes the death of another. . . Will any of the group ever recover from their mishap of an 'adventure'? Will they ever escape from the evil base, or will they end up dying there, just as Giovanni's planned for them?


	6. Chapter Five

**Author **- Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon; if I did, Illicit Saints would be a feature film and the anime would be a little more adult and a little more Pokeshippy. No, wait. . . A lot more Pokeshippy. Lots more; yup. But I don't, so it doesn't matter in any case.

**Warning **- Contains sexual references and displays, graphic violence, etc. Rated 'M' for mature themes.

OoO

**Characters **/ **Ages **-

**Misty **/ **17**

**Ash **/ **16**

**Brock **/ **20**

**May **/ **13**

**Jessie **/ **22**

**James **/ **22**

OoO

**Pokemon - Illicit Saints**

Chapter Five

OoOoO

When Ash first became aware of the chilling cobblestone against his hot and bruising flesh, it was actually relieving. Unfortunately, as he returned to full consciousness, that feeling diminished and was almost instantly replaced by dread at the sight of his dank surroundings.

"Well, this is fan-friggen-tastic." Brock noted from a cell somewhere to his immediate right. He could hear sniffling from further up the lane, meaning that May was awake and well-aware of the goings-on as well.

Far unlike the linoleum flooring, potted plant, dress suit-appropriate look that had been seen about three floors above them, the prison block was everything a criminal could expect when being held captive underground. There were, after all, no windows, and though Ash had his own personal cell, the blanket on the cot was thin, raggedy, the walls were damp, he hadn't seen Pikachu since he'd arrived, and worse even than all of that. . .

. . . Misty had been the one to do all of this to them. How could she? The thought plagued him. Ash had yet to ask Brock and May if they were alright physically, because he really didn't want to know in detail just what Misty had done to them. His neck had stopped bleeding by the time he'd woken back up, but the pain, and that in his abdomen, was far from being quashed. If nothing else, the agony was based at a more mental stage, where the face of his ex-best friend stared at him.

What had possessed her to turn on him and the others?

He'd asked her, of course, but her reply had been far from satisfactory.

_"I'm doing this because I was told to, because it's the best thing I could ever hope to do right now."_

So what? That was it? That didn't make any sense to him. Misty had never done a single thing in the entirety of the six and a half years Ash had known her simply because someone had told her to. He would know. Of all the times he'd told her to put her mallet where her mouth was in the middle of one of their childish arguments, she'd sent him flying every time. And what about taking all three of her longest-time friends captive for the man who'd killed her mother and tried to kill her many a time made this the best thing to do right now?

Ash gritted his teeth in his one - man - cell as his right hand flew furiously to the back of his head in wonder. He should've been able to hate her so easily. He shouldn't have been able to think about her, to say her name - in spite - and curse her into oblivion for what she'd done. So how come he kept hoping that there was something else going on here, even though there clearly wasn't. . . ?

_Because she's Misty_, his heart argued. He growled. It was always hard to disagree with such logic. Then, though, he hated to have to know, he distinguished it was something of a duty of his to ask. . .

"Are you guys alright?"

He was met with a duet of immediate assurances, and knew at once that his friends were probably lying for his sake. After all, who'd faced a larger loss than he, betrayed by his best friend, the first person besides his mother that he'd chosen to put faith in when it came to the importance of his dream? But then, he was also able to recognize a few other distinct tones among the thrall of deep passages.

"Damned that Twerpette to Hell!" Jessie shrieked so loudly that her voice was too distorted to isolate, "James, are you okay? And you too, Meowth?"

"Da Top Cat's fine!" Meowth affirmed.

"Me, too. . ." James agreed groggily.

Ash noticed that they seemed to have returned to ignoring him and the others, but at the sounds of their failed attempt at conversation, his brow knitted together in worry. Team Rocket, er, the "flunkies" of Team Rocket, had been locked away, as well? That was troublesome, as it was all Ash, Brock, and May's fault for dragging them off and forcing them to turn temporarily against their evil ways. (Well, those three had never really proven themselves to be evil; annoying, mischievous, and one-track-minded at best.) Could Jessie, James, and Meowth face some form of penalty for what they'd done?

"Hey, Jessie; what's going to happen to us?" James whimpered.

Ash sighed; even they didn't have a clue as to how the local punishments worked around here and, well, that was hard to imagine, considering who they were.

But, thinking of Jessie and James' futures (or lack there-of) made Ash wary; he couldn't help but turn his wonderings to his own, and those of his friends. What would become of them? Of Pikachu? Or the other Pokemon? Would he just sit there, not knowing, until he died? Would Giovanni order his soldiers to keep his prisoners fed, but just barely so that they had just enough energy to sit there and stare at the walls and wonder when they would finally die, and if anybody would ever discover that they were gone?

Ash had never met the man before, not formally, but somehow, so far, that sounded perfectly within the range of his hobbies, along with turning people against each other, murder, mass chaos and destruction. . .

His thoughts were put to a stop by the sound of creaking hinges being heaved open, and he leapt up, almost regretting this as he was still just a bit woozy, and made his way haphazardly to the wide opening of his cell leading to the hallway across from which stood a long range of other five-by-nine-foot rooms marked by three stone walls and one gaping opening, blocked with nothing but inch-thick steel bars every half-a-foot.

He wasn't the only one to try and catch sight of whomever it was that was coming to greet them all. He could just make out May's small silhouette at the very front of the hall, just a couple of cells from the door, and Brock was in the cell fright beside him. While Jessie, James, and Meowth had been grouped up together a few cells up, and diagonally so.

Ash had about two seconds to wonder about that. After all, all of the cells were made for one person. Why were those three forced to be cooped up like that, even then? But then he noticed that quite a few people had begun to make their way into the hall, a couple of them stopping at May's door and proceeding to unlock it.

"You! Get away from her!" Ash shouted furiously as he noticed May back out of sight, terrified for herself, "Stop it, damnit!" But then, a few of the Rocket members were in front of his cell, and Jessie, James, and Meowth's, and Brock's, and though Ash felt like he was struggling as they led him away, he also felt somehow numb, and he couldn't understand it, really.

Someone was standing at each of his shoulders in a secure way, and the same could be said for everyone else. It was strange though, because no one was saying or doing anything. Now that Ash had thought about it, what was the point of escape? He didn't know his way out of the Team Rocket Empire, and there was no way that he'd be leaving without Pikachu, or any of his other Pokemon. . .

The very large group of people (and one Pokemon) made their way through a normal - looking door, but it turned out to lead to a room barely larger than their cells. One of the many Rocket trainers pulled off his glove and placed his hand to a white square panel next to the exit, saying, "Basement, second floor, Infirmary."

Ash's eyes weren't the only ones to widen in confusion. Infirmary? Who was sick? Come to think of it, why would Team Rocket care? Or had someone died? Then Jessie brought to light the truth.

"Excuse me! James and I already received our mandatory physicals, you know, our first year here! This is rookie stuff!"

". . . And, be that as it may, you and your partner have been on the field for an exceedingly long period of time, and these three need checked out as well, along with the flea - bitten feline. Giovanni will find it inexcusable if you animals cause a born disease to run rampant throughout the base after all of our hard work, our years, of fruitful production. We can't let ourselves become unraveled by the likes of you, now, can we?"

Ash looked down at his hands, attempting to ignore what the Rocket man had just said. His wrists had been cuffed so tightly together since they'd removed him from his cell that he could hardly feel anything, but an off sort of tingling sensation in his hands. A swift glance in May and Brock's direction told him that they were being treated to the same conduct. He truly did feel like an animal; one that was being watched very closely for any signs of a psychotic break in his behavior. . .

"Move it, you; there's plenty still to be done with you today." One of the Rocket's told him, and Ash blinked, noticing that the door leading out to another of the criminal base levels had been opened again, revealing strangely. . . normal surroundings. There were linoleum floors and beige walls and, somewhere, he could hear the ticking of an abnormally loud clock. ". . . Didn't I tell you to move?"

Ash felt something small, chillingly cold, and hard, something made of steel, press up quite suddenly against the back of his neck, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. He was somehow very aware of everyone's eyes on him even though he couldn't see them, and he heard May contain the urge to say something, probably to tell the anonymous evil - doer to stop. . .

"We're under strict orders to keep you alive, boy, but as our prisoner, you're more than likely going to wind up getting a few beatings, as it's only fair to warn you. However. . . do you really want to start off your list of many maladies - to - come this soon after your arrival? It would be. . . disappointing, somehow, to end up having to start punishing one of you so soon. . ." But the Rocket didn't sound that upset about it. Rather, when Ash still hesitated to move, he pressed the foreign object (whatever it was) more firmly against his backside. ". . . And it would mean a lot of tedious paperwork that I really don't feel like starting on just yet."

And then Ash finally found his legs able to move again, and he and the others regained their walk towards the Infirmary, which, he supposed, was probably right beyond the door at the very end of the hall, against the wall opposing the way they'd come. This brilliant deduction had been assumed after he realized that. . . there really were no other doors along the floor; at least, none that he could see.

Walking through the door led to another strangely empty space of normalcy and Ash, being told to sit on one of the many unoccupied beds along the walls and await his examination, gazed almost too curiously around the room. As almost unknown emotion swept rapidly over him, and it took an entire minute for him to realize just what that emotion was.

. . . _Relief_. . .

Of everything that he'd seen, or not see, all that had happened. . . it really was hard to believe that there was anything to be relieved about. . . All of the pain, the shock, the disappointment. . . And not the mention he was still wondering when he'd run into Misty again, although he had no idea what his reaction would be as of yet, the next time they actually saw each other.

And there it was; that strange, rapid, sickly series of pulsations, followed almost immediately by an ungodly wave of relief. He recognized the first batch of emotion now, too, as it was becoming distinctly familiar nowadays. . . That was fear, that was. And he'd felt it at the thought of _Misty_; of seeing her again, of learning exactly what was going on. . . No. . .

He was afraid that maybe Misty Waterflower was truly dead, after all.

"Right; the physical examinations will begin shortly. One of us will assist in your stripping naked, and fitting you into your gowns, and then the medical attendants will be here shortly after to start with you." One of the Rocket's explained in a stiff, bored tone of voice.

"What about da Top Cat?" Meowth asked in a voice so timid it suggested he knew already that he should be keeping his mouth shut.

"Filthy feline. . . !" One of the female Rocket's grumbled before she kicked him forward towards one of the beds. Jessie and James seemed to be biting through their bottom lips to keep from commenting. "You want to act human, then you can take the same treatment! Don't complain!"

Over the course of the next two hours, Ash and the others were poked, prodded, inspected, graded, and subjected to a series of thoroughly uncomfortable tests just short of illegal. Ten to twenty different tubes of blood were drawn to test for certain illnesses, diseases, things they'd never even heard of; a hair follicle test for drug - use; height and weight; the group was actually offered immunization for the flue and measles. The examination even went so far so as to include a cat - scan and a full - body x - ray for any internal injuries that would be a problem at some point later on.

And then everybody was made to bathe in a public shower stall, get dressed back into their regular attire (which had been cleaned), and sent to their cells in the basement level. This time around, a Rocket sat up in front of the room to keep watch on them all now that they were awake.

Ash leaned his head against the cool steel of the bars of his cage, wondering. . . Weren't they supposed to have more to do today? But his train of thought didn't last long. He could hear May crying openly from her cell, even though he couldn't see her. Brock wasn't making any noise at all, and might as well have drifted off to sleep. . . And, Ash noticed, Jessie, James, and Meowth had been placed in the same cell yet again. . . What cruel thing was Giovanni planning for them, anyway. . . ?

But he really had no time to think about it, he decided, as he felt himself nodding off, too. . . It was only natural, after all, since the attendant had taken so much of his blood in such a short period of time for the tests. . . He was probably anemic. . .

And, thus, sleep was the remedy.

Luckily, it was dreamless, at least consciously. He didn't think he could stand any of those surreal messages that often tried to make their way though the head during a life crisis. When he turned to see what was going on, why he'd felt the need to wake back up so soon, he saw the Rocket guard standing stiffly at his door with a clipboard in one hand and a tray in the other.

"Ketchum, Ashton of Pallet Town? Age sixteen? Son of Delia?" He asked as his eyes roved over the papers held in his hand.

"Er. . . y - yea. . . How'd you know that?" Ash gulped in fear of the answer. They might now have known everything, but that was definitely enough to go on. Was his mom going to be in danger because of all of this? Worse yet; how had they found out to begin with? If Misty had told them. . . Ash didn't even have a chance to notice that he was clenching his fists in fury, before. . .

"Happy dinner time." The Rocket stated begrudgingly, as he slid the tray through a small space - trap at the bottom of the door of bars. "Eat it, kid, 'cause you've got somewhere to be."

"No. . ." Ash murmured, and even he seemed surprised that he was turning down a meal; but he had more important things to think about. . . In a stronger voice, he continued, "No. . . ! Tell me! How'd you find out all of that about me?" But the Rocket ignored him again, this time reading from the medical report in a pleased sort of way, thrilled to be putting him off.

"Blood type. O; all of the tests came back negative. . . You'll be pleased to know," and here it looked as though it was paining the man to admit it, "that you are exceptionally healthy. Yay for you. Now, you have ten minutes to eat, and then you won't get another chance until at least tomorrow morning, so get to it."

Ash was uncomfortable with the fact that he didn't know just how long away 'tomorrow morning' was, especially in a Team Rocket member's eyes, and the man had said 'at least'. Well; that was nice. All of a sudden, he was well - aware of the fact that he was displeasingly starving, and he leant forward and began eating. The meal actually wasn't so bad, after all, and Ash, so cautious, so obsessed with when and how he and the others were going to die, hadn't even realized until just then. . . But all of a sudden the thought became very clear that - through the past ten minutes he'd been awake, he hadn't heard any of the other occupants of the underground jailhouse saying a word.

And then his eyes widened and he spat out the food.

Of course; what had he been thinking. . . ?

The fact that he'd been so healthy and Team Rocket knew it, then they brought him this pleasant (non - gruel - associated) plate of food, and his friends. . . They hadn't said a work to him this whole time, because. . .

"No; oh, God, no. . ." His eyes were wide with horror at the thought of it, but he knew it was true. He gulped again, staring down at the plate before him. "Poison; i - it's _poison_. . ." He shuddered, thinking about the fact that he'd already swallowed at least five mouthfuls. How much would he have had to eat to be affected by the drugs?

He looked up at the man before him, who wasn't moving. He must have eaten enough, then, because, if he hadn't, the Rocket would have been moving to shove more down his throat. . .

". . . W - what about the others. . . . ?" He asked himself, turning to stare beyond his cell. "Are they. . . ? Are they already dead?"

"Eh? What are you babbling on about?" The Rocket asked, checking his clipboard again. "We didn't check for mental illnesses. . . So that would have been our mistake." He leant forward and pulled Ash up by the collar of his shirt, inspecting his eyes. "Dilated pupils? Pale, ghastly, tremors. . . Maybe the shock? But how could it have come on so suddenly? He's been here for hours. . ." And then he heard Ash mutter.

"Poison. . . Are they dead?" The Rocket saw the food the boy had spat out, the way he was inching longingly towards his friends' cells, and then, being the mastermind, he managed to put two and two together.

"Kid, you have one hell of an over - active imagination, I'll give you that." Ash seemed to snap awake at those words and looked up hopefully at the man to clear his head entirely of the nasty thoughts. "First of all, why would we bring you here just to kill you all? It leaves unnecessary ties to our organization that the government would just _love _to see; not to mention," and here, a pregnant pause, "under most circumstance, an excruciating clean - up job. Second of all, when we murder someone, we never poison them. It's on the Team Rocket Evil - Evilness Code of Conduct. Poison is too impersonal a way to off a person, and besides, it takes too long most of the time to have an effect, and there's not enough blood - slinging. Nah; it's best to use something else. Now, get back to your food. You have to leave in two minutes."

". . . Uh, actually, I'm not very hungry." Ash commented. After a pep-talk like that, he was going to be hard - pressed to eat ever again. "Where am I going? What about my friends?"

"You're going to meet the one and only Giovanni, kid. And I suggest if you want to make a good impression, you learn to jump high into the air and squeal his name in a fan-girl voice; it gives dictators like him a real high." The raven-haired trainer didn't look too enthused by this advice, and the Rocket shrugged as he picked up the tray and turned to walk away. "Don't worry; your friends will be going, too; you can be sure. There's just ever - so much to be discussed." And then Ash was left alone with his thoughts, and an immense sensation of foreboding.

He hoped that now that the Rocket guard was out of earshot, Brock would try to talk to him, seeing as his cell was right next - door, but the older Pokemon trainer didn't seem to be in the mood; or maybe he just didn't have anything to say.

Ash felt the distinct urge to kick himself at the anxiety he was feeling at the thought. . . He was finally going to meet Giovanni. If it hadn't been for the two very simple facts that, one, Misty had just gotten finished betraying the rest of them, and two, Giovanni had an entirely evil army ready and at his disposal, Ash very well might have considered losing his mind during that first encounter and taking revenge for his best friend, beating the living shit out of the poor excuse of a man who called himself her father. . . But then, what was the point of that now. . . ?

"It's time to go." The Rocket said upon his return and Ash was on his feet, nervous, but still somehow more than willing to get this whole party started, in an instant. Brock, May, and Jessie, James, and Meowth were being led out of their cells in little somber moods as well, and Ash breathed a slight sigh of relief. At least now he had sure - fire proof that they were still okay. . .

And then the feeling was gone because, thinking about it, how long could they all expect to live in a place like this? What were they going to go see Giovanni now for, if not their terms of punishment. . . ? What would happen to them all over time, since it seemed a quick an painless death was totally out of the question?

Their hands were bound again, about a dozen Rocket guards placed around them for security purposes, and they were off, coming to a stop outside the elevator soon enough and stepping inside, where one of the guards near the front removed her glove and placed her hand to the small white square, which glowed green in turn, and the woman uttered the words, "Basement, fourth floor," before replacing her glove again.

Ash quirked an eyebrow in slight interest. That was a different number than before. . .

The elevator began moving almost immediately with a slight shudder, and May drew a very sharp, sudden intake of breath at the thought of where they were going and who they were going to see. One of the Rockets might've stopped to make a crude comment about the Hoenn girl's cowardice, but they didn't have the chance. The next thing anyone noticed, the elevator door was open again and they were all able to file out.

This hallway was different, again, than the one that led to the Infirmary. First of all, there were plenty of doors leading off of the walls and, catching a glimpse through the glass - framed windows of one, Ash saw that some of them led to classrooms of sorts; and large ones at that. Just what kind of a building had they been led to, anyway? Then, the next thing he noticed was that, upon exiting the elevator, he had become something of a spectator's sport.

It seemed that the whole of the Team Rocket Headquarters had heard that a large group of prisoners was to be meeting with Giovanni, not to mention that three of those prisoners were 'traitors' of the organization, and had come to call, had come to see. . . Looking around, however, he saw no familiar face staring back at him from the mass sea of black and gray. . . Misty wasn't there.

And then his attention was brought to a door just in front of the group. Almost immediately, the anonymous Rockets dispersed into nothing, vanishing in different directions. They didn't want to be seen by Giovanni, it seemed. Perhaps that was why none of them had shown themselves earlier at the Infirmary; they might have been curious, but not so much as to fake an injury, or actually allow themselves to become injured. . . Not when their leader was likely to be watching them.

A single knock by one of the Rocket guards present with the group and the door seemed to fly open on its own. Inside, it was near dark, but Ash could clearly make out the silhouettes of two adults - one male and one female - and there was no mistaking who the man was, but. . . His eyes widened and he though - he hoped - to be imagining it, because he didn't want it to be her. . . He didn't want to have to face her so soon. . . But May's gasp of horror sold him.

It was Misty.

She had some type of portfolio in her hands, however, and was proceeding to look it over, and so she didn't bother to catch their eye. Ash wasn't sure whether to be more relieved or disappointed by this. . . until he heard the snap of the door shutting behind them all and he was ushered closer to the desk behind which sat the cause of every one of their problems.

Giovanni cleared his throat.

"I'm so glad that you all could join me here today, along with my daughter, Aurora." Ash, May, and Brock gave Misty half a piercing glance, but all she did was acknowledge her father's comment with a nod. Jessie, James, and Meowth had rarely ever looked so confused, seeing as they'd never before heard the redhead being referred to by that other name. "As you might well already know," and here, the man's gaze lingered upon his flunky members, "my name is Giovanni, and I'm the resident leader of this organized crime establishment, Team Rocket."

He paused here, possibly for dramatic effect. Ash had to admit, he had no idea what was coming next. Giovanni sounded so calm and collected. . . Not the type of man that was planning multiple murders and world domination.

"So, you may be wondering, 'What are we doing here?'" Giovanni smirked as he continued with this question, "'What makes us so special that we get to see the inside of this extraordinary base before you move out to claim the Earth as your own?'" He breathed deeply and, at this point, rose from his seat to embrace the quiet of the room, "If you must know, absolutely nothing, really. But you three. . ." His sharp and cold gaze flashed in Ash, May, and Brock's direction, ". . . have been a thorn in my side for years, and my daughter needed to train. You were nothing but bait, objects of possession, as of the point Aurora accepted her alliance with me. Oh, and. . . you're here to waste away." He shrugged as though it was a simple, everyday statement and regained his seat. "You're here until my men and I can no longer bare the stench of your rotting, deathly flesh. . . After that, we'll rid ourselves of your corpses, possibly depositing them at your homes for your families to collect."

Ash couldn't stand to look at him anymore. Any man who could talk about death or torture in such a confident or even excited tone. . . they were obviously mentally ill. The raven - haired trainer was aware of May giving away a silent sniffle, meaning that she was crying again, although she didn't want to be caught for fear of what would happen to her.

"So, let's more on to the next order of business." Giovanni said in his silkiest tone yet, which probably meant he was the most excited, ". . . Terms of punishment." And then he went on in a much louder, clearer tone, "Come here, you three."

Ash automatically began to walk forward, under the assumption that the man had been talking about him and his friends, but was stopped by the familiar cold steel from earlier being pressed against his backside. And then, slightly perplexed, he glanced up and saw that Giovanni's gaze had swung to Jessie, James, and Meowth, who were hobbling forward the best that they could and looking terrified. Glancing at Brock and May, Ash could tell that they felt the same way for the trio of bumbling villains as he did. . .

"Treason, aiding an enemy offense. . ." The Team Rocket leader started up again and Jessie, James, and Meowth flinched, "Capital crimes, really. . . It's a shame that you can't have so much enthusiasm for your day - jobs. Tell me; do you know how many Units here at the headquarters are permitted to wear gray uniforms?" When no one replied, he continued, "I give you permission to talk; now go. . . !" He showed his first sign of impatience.

". . . Er, t - two, Sir. . ." Meowth said shakily.

"Hmm. . . That's correct; now, an average term in that uniform is, say, three or four weeks, depending. . . If you're out on the field with a partner on a rogue mission, then about two months. How long have you two idiots been sporting those ridiculous costumes?" Even though he kept his overall calm demeanor, some part of his expression was looking mightily furious as he stared his flunkies down.

". . . F - five years. . . Sir. . . Between teams 'I' and 'J'." Jessie stated.

"How many missions have you returned successfully from in the course of those five years?" He cleared his throat again and tried to detail further into the topic, "Meaning, how many times have you returned with a product that was useful in some way to the organization?" He had regained his superiorly calm demeanor now and was lacing his fingers in between each other to lean his chin against his hand and await the trio's answer.

"Well, c - counting the times that we ended up losing the product in the end. . . or when the credit got stolen by one of our c - colleagues. . ." James started feebly, but Jessie interrupted him.

"Twenty - seven," she commented uneasily.

"So. . . five years; you've been in that same uniform, you've followed around the same group of children only because I allowed it, you've only managed to secure twenty - seven items of value for us. . . all in the due course of the past _five years_." And then Giovanni blinked as though suddenly bemused. "You know, your uselessness is a wondrous thing, even to me. How do you do it?" And then he cleared his throat again, raising his head from his hands and waving one of them around as though to tell the trio not to answer the question. "And, then, after all of that. . . you help these known enemies of our organization get here. . . Now, what could you be thinking?"

They said nothing in reply. Ash wasn't sure if this was really smart or stupid. He gulped and turned to glance at May and Brock again; for some reason, he wanted some advice on the whole matter. . . but Misty caught his eye. She was still staring in a determined sort of way at the portfolio in her hands, as though hoping to ignore the meeting until she was forced to take part in it. Some part of him, perhaps the part that was still young and in need of everyone's attention, wanted so dearly for him to scream out at that moment, "Hey! Stop ignoring me!" But, for all the good it would do, he might as well have just gone up and attacked Giovanni on the spot.

So he turned back to the leader of Team Rocket and waited for him to continue speaking, hoping that whatever was coming next wouldn't be as awful as it seemed. . .

"You're very lucky, you know." The redheaded, elderly leader implored confidently, and Jessie, James, and Meowth couldn't help the feebly hopeful expressions that came over their faces at that point. "You fools cause so much grief, you're not really worth any trouble. . . but this time around, had it not been for you, Aurora wouldn't have been able to complete her mission, seeing as her captives would have been dead." He looked as though his next statement was going to pain him, but then managed to swallow some type of pride. "I'm going to give your Team a bonus. . . All of your medical bills will be paid on my behalf."

Ash's mind faintly began to register relief, pleasure, congratulations for the trio. His heart was beating a million miles a second; he couldn't seem to breathe because, at least for them, things had seemed to work out. . . That was one thing off of his mind, at least. . . So weak in the knees, he almost didn't hear what came next. . .

"And, as soon as all of you are recovered, turn in your uniforms and leave the premises."

Giovanni's comment was met with five seconds of silence before Jessie, James, and Meowth attempted to retaliate.

"Wh – what?" Jessie started dumbly, as though the boss's statement had knocked her for a loop. "Boss – sir – you don't mean it. . ." She grinned at him, hoping he'd break out into laughter with her and the rest of them, but he didn't.

"Certainly, I do. You three have indebted yourselves to me long enough, I think. You're just lucky that, in your time spent here, you haven't become aware of more highly classified information." Giovanni cleared his throat. "Otherwise I'd have to kill you all." As he spoke, he didn't even bother with his sickly smirk, proving just how serious he was on the matter.

"B – but you can't just. . . We've been working here for five years!" James cried out hysterically, as though hoping to reason with the man.

"And in those five years, you've done nothing but waste space and make comical beings of yourselves!" Giovanni snapped. "That is _not_ how I want my organization being judged! I will not let you all torment me with your useless schemes, and I won't let you think that you can get away with failing constantly anymore while managing to rack up an even higher debt with me!"

"Why, you son of a. . . We're your soldiers. . . ! Failures or not, we're still loyal, and we always have been! And you're just going to throw us away like we're so worthless. . . ?" Jessie murmured furiously, scathingly, gritting her teeth. "You can't do this!"

"Oh, yes I can." Giovanni corrected with a small grin playing on his lips, "Remove them." He commanded of a few of the Team Rocket members standing in the large office, and a couple stepped forward immediately for the job. Jessie tried to shrug them off at first, biting, kicking, screaming, doing what she did best, but was soon led from the room; James was far too tired to fight back, his burns being so horrible, and he hadn't had much time for sleep before the meeting either, so the anemia was something; and Meowth. . . well. . . his paws were bound together by the handcuffs, so his _Scratch_ and _Fury Swipes_ attacks were useless. . . And _Bite_ was only effective if he could actually reach the person pulling at him.

Ash just stared, thinking about what Jessie and James had said to him and his friends before all of this had happened, horrified. . . They had told him that the Rocket HQ was like their home, the 'boss' was like their surrogate family. . . And now, that family was throwing them out onto the streets without a second thought. No one deserved that type of betrayal; not even them.

"Now onto the next order of business." Giovanni started again, and Ash blinked, finally realizing that the bumbling villains that had been chasing him around for years at a time were gone. "Aurora, step forward."

Misty did so, and Ash slowly craned his neck to face her, his thoughts on another plain entirely. Jessie, James, and Meowth; all gone. . . Would he ever see them again? As strange as it seemed, the two feuding groups had formed a somewhat off-beat friendship throughout the years of their knowing each other. But now they were gone. . . And even if he survived his stay here at the Rocket base, even if he and the others made it out alive and managed to find their way home again. . . The chances were slim enough already, but. . . could he really hope to relocate Jessie, James, and Meowth, too? Would those three even have a chance of surviving out in the real world without Giovanni's continuous financial backing. . . ?

"Yes, father?" Misty said in such a strangely calm tone, and Ash felt himself being thrown back to the present. The amount of respect that the redhead was showing for the man simply made him want to vomit.

"I'm quite proud of you for how you finished off your first mission. My stealth unit told me that, other than one minor hitch, it went along completely flawlessly." Strangely complimentary, Giovanni turned his gaze to his prisoners. "However. . . I can't help but feel that things didn't go as planned after all. . . ?" His gaze flew back to Misty, who stared numbly back at him, almost innocently, as though she didn't understand the language he was speaking.

Ash listened to this exchange as well, and as he heard what the leader of Team Rocket said, he couldn't help but wonder what the 'minor hitch' was. . . He blinked, his brow furrowed as he attempted to remember, but it was a bit foggy here and there. Then again, your best friend holding a knife to your neck, swearing to kill you, and tossing you around like a beanbag isn't exactly a fond memory. . . However, Ash did remember the chance he had when he was able to knock said pocket knife from Misty's hand and hold her down. . . Maybe Giovanni was talking about that?

But then, something else suddenly came to mind. . .

"I'm. . . _so_. . . sorry. . ."

She had emphasized the whisper and he had barely heard her. . . Somehow, now, thinking about it so suddenly. . . Maybe that was it. . . But how could Giovanni have known, if he – Ash – could barely have understood, even now? It seemed strange, somehow, that, whatever Misty had done wrong, the Rocket leader wasn't mentioning it out loud, as if he was refraining from giving any of the others even the slightest ray of hope. And, to be reasonable, that was definitely the type of thing that would fit the mold. . .

Suddenly, Giovanni turned and caught Ash's eye again, "Come forward." He said simply.

Ash's first thought was to deny the offer, just to say something along the lines of 'No, thanks,' and turn his head. Well, okay, not really, but he didn't want to step up to the desk at the front of the room. Why? Because Giovanni had a scheme planned already and he – Ash – was a part of it. And he didn't want to be. And if that made him out to be a coward, then. . . oh, well.

He'd have liked to think that anyway, until, out of the blue, he felt that strange steely coolness against his neck, and, like mechanics, his legs began moving on their own. Damn them.

"I want to know. . ." Giovanni started when Ash had presumably reached a close enough distance, ". . . what you think of her now, boy, after she's made such a fool of you?" The man's eyes twinkled maliciously at the introduction of the taunt and Ash couldn't help but glare, feeling defensive and defenseless at the same time.

It couldn't have been true, if couldn't have been. . . Not when the man was trying so hard to make the boy believe that the girl was unforgivable, and Ash told Giovanni that, told him that he didn't believe it somehow, that he still had faith that Misty would turn out to be the fest friend he'd known since the day he'd left home, the one he'd grown to cherish so much. . .

But he didn't look at her.

"Ah, you see. . . I don't know of any Misty Waterflower; only of Aurora, who is my rightful flesh and blood." Giovanni exclaimed, as though making a point.

"And I don't really know of any Aurora; just my friend Misty, who's been there for me forever and who I won't judge until I'm absolutely positive that there's no other choice in the matter." Ash replied.

"Fine, very well; you aren't going to catch on, on your own. . ." The Team Rocket leader said and leaned forward in his seat, "Aurora, you've completed the official report for your first mission, yes?" He nodded towards the portfolio she'd been holding onto the entire meeting long, "Well, why don't you read it out loud to us all so that there's no doubt in anyone's mind just what. . . happened out there between you all?" He asked in an almost fatherly tone, and he seemed quite confident already about what the outcome would be.

Misty gave the first humanoid reaction she had since Ash had seen her that day and blinked, attempting not to act shocked or horrified , and she stared at the thin booklet in her hands as though it would be the death of her. She didn't look at anyone for the next two seconds until, for some reason that Ash didn't understand at all, Giovanni placed a hand on his desk, curling his long fingers around the top desk drawer handle as though threatening to pull something out of it.

The next thing anyone knew, the portfolio was open and Misty's eyes were on the first page.

"Yes, father, of course."

Ash stepped back again, joining the rest of the ever-faithful audience, and waited. He gulped. . . It couldn't have been as bad as he thought it was, right? But. . . why had Misty looked so worried about reading the thing out loud, if not for the fact that there was something in there – or plenty of something's – that she didn't want them to know. . . ?

The feeling in him faded a little, the hope flickering in his eyes becoming slightly less apparent. Luckily, he was facing Misty now, so Giovanni hadn't noticed; hopefully.

"My mission officially began at 0603 three mornings ago," Misty started quakingly, but she had indeed returned to using that slightly monotonous tone. "I exited through the 2-A Viridian Forest entranceway and made my way out into the open, following the coordinates that you, father, had given me earlier that day." She halted for a moment, as though she'd lost her place on the page, and Ash took a moment to regroup.

She'd barely started reading, after all, and he already saw a problem, an inconsistency, between the story she'd fed the rest of them before, and the one she was giving now. . . Giovanni had been watching their progress? He'd given Misty coordinates to follow? They'd been told that they were being watched, that was true, but Misty had said that the only way she'd known that was because she'd eavesdropped on certain conversations being held outside of the jail-cell she'd been held in for the past week. . .

"Around 1438 of the afternoon I set out, I managed to locate the targets lounging about the South Eastern end of the forest, recuperating from their means of traveling here." Her voice didn't catch and she didn't stutter as she said this, but she halted again and drew a slight breath, as thought it had touched her deeply, what they had been through for her, but she knew that she couldn't express how she felt. "I coaxed them down from their worries about me and managed to distract them for the evening by getting them to tell me how they got there."

Ash's brow furrowed and he could almost feel Brock and May's inquisitive stares pressing on him from behind. There was something off about that, too, and, before the raven-haired trainer could help it, the words echoed in his head; those of Misty's father. They voiced the opinion that the relationship that Ash had had with Misty, the one he'd hoped still existed between them, was no more. Ash, Brock, and May were 'bait' or 'objects of possession' for her to train with. . . That was what the Team Rocket leader had said.

And Ash found himself just slightly more inclined to believe it, what he'd been told. After all, since when had Misty – er, how had she put it? – been put to distracting them all by making them tell her how they'd found a suitable way into the area? The ornate details seemed far more suspicious than he'd have liked to believe at first.

"Of course, prior to my reentry into their campsite, I proceeded to injure myself with the pocketknife I'd received as a safety-net defense weapon to give the impression I'd escaped the Rocket base against your will. I also set loose my Pokemon to be sure that they were camouflaged and prepared for the event to be taking place later on, even though, at the time, I admit that I didn't know exactly when I'd be able to initiate the capture."

Ash's eyes widened; that wasn't right, that couldn't be right. Misty hurting herself to create the façade that she wasn't what she seemed – which had worked, he admitted now – was just so. . . masochistic and. . . underhanded of her. And she said that she'd let her Pokemon out into the open before even showing herself to the rest of them, proving the premeditation of it all.

"That evening, after regaining their trust," Ash felt something in the back of his mind go numb. It was hard to think, now, that at that time, Misty had had yet to lose their faith in her at all, "I spent the late hours refining the story I'd created, the one that I was going to tell them the next day, so that it would include a very simple but highly incriminating missing link; I told them at first that I'd never met you, and then later, commented that it was surely you who'd mentioned to the guard watching over me as prisoner that they were all nearby."

Well, Ash decided, if that wasn't a swift kick in the ass then he didn't know what was. The night that Misty had returned, his thoughts had been on nothing but how wonderful it was to have her back. . . Her thoughts, however, seemed to have been centered around the entire betrayal theory, after all. And. . . Misty had included the whole mix-up about Giovanni intentionally, then? But she'd looked so worried when Brock had brought it up with her. . .

"If nothing else, my adolescence spent as a surrogate daughter to the Waterflower family of Cerulean City gave me plenty of opportunities to work on my acting." Well, that cleared that up. "Brock, the wisest of the group, caught on in no time, and thus, I was forced to act." Misty took a moment to clear her throat, then continued. "Ash, of course, wouldn't believe for a moment that his best friend turned her back on him, and I was caught slightly off-guard when he marched up to me to inquire about it. . . However, I recovered and barred him off, managing to call on my Pokemon, who then knocked May, Jessie, James, and Meowth out in dismissive order."

Ash was back to blinking again. . . He remembered that, now, and he remember what came next, as well. . .

"Unfortunately, at that time, Ash chose to revert to his ever-reliable stage of 'acting the hero', and he attempted to command his Pikachu – now in our care – to use one of its many attacks. I couldn't allow the incapacitation of any of my Pokemon by that. . . filthy rat. . . so I stepped up behind its trainer before he could issue a command and convinced him in my own way not to speak any further. However," it was the closest thing to her looking at him that he'd gotten so far that day, but at this point, Ash didn't care for it at all anymore, "he has always been one of the most persevering children I've ever met. . . It's rather annoying.

"He turned and put his hands on me, pinning me to the ground. He wanted answers, he wanted to know why I was doing what I was doing. He assumed that I had a reason, I suppose." And Misty shrugged here in a nonchalant sort of way.

"What, pray-tell, did you tell the boy, Aurora?" Giovanni asked, interrupting the reading of her report for the first time for his own inquiry. Everyone turned to stare at him, as though wondering why he'd bother caring in some way.

"I. . . I told him that I was doing it because I was told to." She shrugged again and left it at that.

"Hmm; maybe, but it seems we're missing something here, something that might've been very poisonous if ever used against my plans for you. Don't think you can get away with it, or any other details you may have missed as of yet. . . You were being thoroughly supervised, and I won't hesitate to. . . punish you for lying to me." He'd intertwined his fingers again as he implored deeply the young woman who was his flesh and blood; his daughter. She did look just a bit scared now, whether it was because she knew she'd left at least the knowledge about Corsola's return to her out of her report, or because of the many horrible things the man sitting so comfortably before her could do to her as punishment. "You may go on."

". . . Very well. . . I – I managed to. . . to shake him off." Misty looked somehow rattled as her eyes went back to roving the third page, single lay-out of her report. "He asked if I was brainwashed, if I was truly me, and I assured him that I was, before I managed to tell him that I was so, so sorry for disappointing him," and here, she gave her first sign of snide humor, sounding so sardonic at the memory that they could tell there had actually been no sympathy from her at that time, "and I leant up to bite him in the neck. I felt that aiming any lower might've been _unsportsmanlike_ of me."

If the former Misty had made a comment like that, Ash probably would've laughed or looked rather insulted, but something about this was very wrong, he concluded now. This Misty had no endearing qualities that he could see and, as far as he could tell, she was not the least bit fearful of any retaliation he might've had for what she was saying. He didn't know her; not anymore. Actually, it was something to be quite thankful for.

"He removed himself from me just in time for my Pokemon to finish with Brock, and then, while he was distracted with the fact that he was bleeding, my Seadra tackled him from behind, followed by Staryu and Starmie." She broke off quite suddenly here to clear her throat, then continued, "I admit, I did become just a bit sympathetic for him at that point. Ash has always been the most dull, dimwitted, accident-prone excuse of a boy I've ever known, so I was going to have Politoad use Hypnosis to put him to sleep. . . He wouldn't have it."

It had always been quite easy for Misty to insult Ash; after all, she had an extensively offensive and sometimes even vulgar vocabulary, and she'd known him for so long that she knew exactly what buttons to press to get a rise from him.

And those had been the exact ones.

"I was forced to lift him up into the air with Psyduck's Confusion and incapacitate him for myself—" She was interrupted here as all of Ash's anger, frustration, disgust, and everything else he could have possibly been feeling in that moment came bubbling to the surface all at once, like a long-delayed reaction.

"—You! How could you? Liar! We were your friends, and you were ours!" He started furiously, stomping forward. If his hands hadn't been bound together, he feared he might just have grabbed a hold of her again by her shoulders to try and shake some sense into her. "You don't – you _can't_ – I can't believe you! I can't _stand_ you—" He probably would have continued to ramble on, but all of a sudden, that ever-so sudden familiar feeling of steely coldness had been pressed once again to the back of his neck by one of the eternally silent Rocket guards.

They didn't wait even a moment to allow him a warning, but instead, he felt the immediate excruciating pain of chilling electricity coursing through him. Later, when he would be able to return once again to his right mind, he would find himself thinking that it felt absolutely nothing like when Pikachu _Thundershock_ed him. His Pokemon's assaults were usually warm, soft, affectionate, friendly. . . This – _this_ – admittedly, was enough to knock him completely off of his feet.

He flew face-forward onto the ground, having just enough time to hold his bound arms upward and out, away from him, so that they weren't crushed under his torso. His eyes jammed shut, he felt certain parts of his body give an odd twitch. First his neck, then his right leg. . . On a faraway plain, he heard Brock and May yell out his name in a simultaneous chorus. And, finally, several moments later, when he'd finally realized that he was indeed still alive, he felt one of the Rockets loop an arm with his, being told by Giovanni to pull him to his feet.

During the slight scuffle, in which he moaned and comprehended that it had been a tazer that had lowered him to his knees, Ash managed to look up at Misty again, and. . . for the first time since his entry into the Rocket base, she'd caught his eye. But it wasn't just that that caught his attention. . . The thing was, Misty was looking at him in such a way, it was as though she considered him to be beneath her. It was this oblivious, blank stare, as though she didn't comprehend that she'd done anything wrong, that she'd completely obliterated his trust in her. It was like she'd lost any sense of humanity she'd had before.

"D – dis. . . gusting. . ." Ash managed to stutter out as both of his legs jerked again from the aftereffects of the shock, and his knees buckled. The Rocket that had been there before was still holding him securely, so he never hit the floor. He glared at her, unable to trust his voice, as though telling her, '_That's what you are._'

"At that point," Giovanni started up quite suddenly again, drawing everyone's attention to him, "you also called upon the Drowsee I leant to you, yes? To assist in the removal of the multiple bodies?"

Misty nodded, looking something unusual, something completely lacking compared to her former self. Ash dropped his gaze then, although he wasn't sure why. . . On some plan, it probably just hurt too much to look at her. And so the two seconds' silence wore on excruciatingly for him, as he felt an all too familiar pang in his chest. Unfortunately, if he couldn't rid himself of it, then he would just have to learn to ignore it.

"I think," Giovanni started, and he was smirking again, as though deeply satisfied, "that I've made my point." He rose from his seat and cleared his throat. "You, boy, are not friends with Aurora anymore, if you. . . ever were. Do you see how quick she was to turn on you? But don't think you're at fault for seeming so gullible. It's not unlike most young boys to play hero, to act innocent, to believe in people without pretext. . . and to be wrong about those people." He laughed now as he stood behind his desk, staring widely down at them all as though they weren't worth his time or wise words.

". . . Bastard. . ." Ash spat out bitterly, and he shook at his confinements a bit as though hoping to rip himself free of them and jump the evil excuse of a man standing before him.

"Excuse me?" The redheaded crime-lord replied, sounding fairly shocked that the raven-haired trainer would bother to reply at all. His snide confidence all seemed to slip a little, proving that, contrary to popular belief, he was susceptible to anger, frustration, and the possible other emotions felt in retaliation to an insult.

Nevertheless, a moment later he'd shaken that off and stepped around the table for the first time, making a close inspection of the now – three prisoners set out before him.

"Never mind; don't forget, you'll have the rest of your long and stand-still life to make up for that comment." He looked straight into Ash's eyes as he said that, and then, as he looked away, cleared himself of his horrible air, turning somewhat mechanical and businesslike, "Now, I think we've covered everything. You lot can return to your. . . hmm. . . 'new homes', I suppose. I don't know when next we'll meet, if at all, so. . ." He broke off a moment, ". . . Goodbye."

Ash, Brock, and May left, accompanied by the entire Rocket guard that had brought them, leaving Giovanni and Misty – father and daughter – standing beside one another. In a leap of emotion, the girls knees suddenly quaked and she fell to the floor, as though she couldn't to support herself anymore.

"You know," she growled from where she was kneeling, "h – he was right; Ash was. You really are a bastard."

Giovanni bent down beside her, slowly, and took her face into his palm, drawing it upwards. When he caught sight of her eyes, the tears had already begun to trickle down her cheeks and to the floor. He let go of her again, obviously disappointed by this bout of affection for the fallible prisoners who were going to spend their lives rotting somewhere three floors below them.

"Hmm; you'll have to work on that, you know." He told her, his heels clicking as he left her to wallow in her own misery, fleeting to the wondrous comfort of his armchair, "Luckily for you, it seems that they finally understand that you are no friend to them, however. . . I think that you are still highly unaware of the fact. Stop caring. I begrudge you; they do not want your pity, your sympathy, or your love anymore."

This response was so clear-cut that it seemed to knock the sadness right out of her. Turning quickly dry-eyed, she glanced up at the man as he turned again to face her. It was so simple, so adequate a thing to say, and so true, that, for a moment, Misty almost considered falling for it. For a moment, she almost considered giving up right then and there and allowing everything to continue as it was.

"You're dismissed." Giovanni said, and she rose to her feet again, looking just as she had before, as unaffected, as monotonous, and left him to what he had to do.

In the cell-block, four floors below the Rocket leader's office, Ash, May, and Brock were returned and forced to sit back down in the same dark, dank excuses for rooms that they'd been in beforehand. After the Rocket guard had retreated, all except for one male member at least, who sat up at the front behind a desk, across from May's cell, the Hoenn girl attempted to open a new link of conversation.

"A – are you alright, Ash. . . ?" She called out from the front of the block timidly, and thankfully, the Rocket ignored her.

Ash listened intently to her tone, but he didn't quite know how to respond. He didn't really understand what she meant, after all. Every once in a while, a random one of his limbs would jut out in retaliation to the unnatural electrical shock he'd endured sometime beforehand. . . but they were becoming farther and fewer in-between. Then, emotionally, there was a storm within him; two sides fighting to erupt, both wanting to go first. Misty was a member of Team Rocket. Misty turned them all over to the cruelest man on the planet. Misty betrayed them; she betrayed _him_. . .

Ash had always considered Misty his best friend. He'd known her the longest, he'd always felt that he could trust her, and he'd learned to read her. It had been hard to get along with her at first when she was always so angry with him, and he'd never been in such close quarters with a girl before, so it was a talent he'd had to learn. It wasn't perfected; there were certain things he respected, certain emotions and aspects that he knew he shouldn't pry into. . . Maybe that was why he'd never seen for himself just what was going on with her past; her former identity.

But this – this – he'd never seen coming, and it pained him to admit it, but he didn't believe it would work out for them. . . not like it used to. Naivety had always allowed him to think that everything would turn out with a happy ending, especially as the child of young, unwed widow, but he was worried about this situation; not only was he doubtful about the survival of certain relationships, but he was worried about their survival in general.

And then, beyond all of that; beyond the fear, because there was plenty, beyond the frustration, the worry, and the disgust. . . there was anger, and hate. It was sad because he'd never felt that before, and terrifying because he'd never thought he would, or could. But now it seemed that he couldn't help it, that it was so inevitable, because it had been festering inside of him ever since Misty had started reading that report of hers. And the thought of that brought to light the obviousness of the fact that. . . he was angry at her; he was in the process of hating _her_. . .

Finally, he found time to answer May's inquiry.

". . . Yea. . . I'm fine! Of course I am; I mean, you know, besides being tazed." He replied to her, immensely pleased with the fact that she couldn't see the expression on his face as he spoke. It would have been quite a sight for her, after all.

He hoped that no one would partake any further into his misery, probing into his mind or anything like that, but May chose to believe that he didn't want to end the discussion so soon, or, well, she still pressed onward for answers.

"So. . . you're. . . How are you feeling? I mean, about Misty?" She asked in a hushed tone, as though knowing the topic of conversation was out-of-bounds.

"How do you expect?" Ash shouted then, reacting more than he meant to. He was clenching his fists in fury again at the thought, and yanked once, twice, anxiously at the hem of his shirt, as though it would help calm his nerves. "You make it sound like I should feel sorry for her or something, like I should feel anything other than angry! You want to know the truth?" He started, and he sighed bitterly, swiping a hand through his hair, "Nothing could piss me off more than hearing her name right now, or talking about what she. . . did to us." He ground out fiercely.

"Maybe, I don't know, there could be. . . she could have an excuse. Something could be wrong. It might not be all that it seems." May attempted in a tiny voice that nevertheless carried over to him. He could even hear the sound of her tears starting up again at his negative demeanor.

"I thought that, too, actually, but I can't keep hoping that; not anymore. There's so much proof to the contrary that it's not even worth arguing about, so stop trying to convince me. It's useless. Misty's. . . not on the good side anymore. Oh, well. I – I think that we can handle the loss."

"That's a lie and you know it!" Brock shouted, finally joining the conversation. "You're being a dumbass, Ash; think about it! It's Misty, and just knowing that fact. . . you'll be hard – pressed to find yourself able to forget her; I know that the rest of us sure as hell couldn't. It's the same thing when it comes down to Jessie, James, and Meowth. They're bothersome, they're annoying, but they're unforgettable. They've grown to mean something to us. The fact that they're gone now. . . well. . . I can only hope there's some way to meet up with them again."

"So. . . it doesn't – it's not over. . . ?" May asked, somewhat hopeful, but she still sounded as though she'd like to cry herself into drowning. "Please, please, guys; tell me it's not over. . ."

Before either of them had a chance to answer, the Rocket guard that was on duty came clanging down the lotted hall, drawing a deep silence from all three of them.

"Right, I've had enough of the talking! You should know by now that it's pointless to consider thinking any differently than how we allow you to!" The Rocket threatened them through the bars of their confines, and they heeded the warning, unable to get the memory of what had happened to Ash out of their minds.

The next few weeks – and months – were spent living under the same conditions, regarding the same types of admonitions. Of course, there were times when even the best behavior didn't prevent the beatings from taking place, especially when a lot of the Rockets who came to watch them were overly-irritable and their aggravation only escalated by the fact that May spent countless hours every night crying her eyes out.

It was obvious that she had lost all hope that they were ever going to get out of there. In fact, the only evenings she didn't cry herself to sleep were the ones far and few in between that Misty was actually sent to guard against them. Instead, May would spend the precious little time they had together uttering whatever inspirational phrases she knew to get the redhead's attention, and maybe convince her to open up about any and all events leading up to her sudden turn to evil. . . if there actually were any.

And although the evening watches where they were lucky enough to experience someone who didn't plan on assaulting them were rare occurrences, it also seemed that any attempted discussion or interaction during them was ultimately useless. Misty never looked May in the eye when the two young women sat across from each other, didn't acknowledge her presence, didn't speak a word. . . not even to Ash and Brock. Given, it was much easier to avoid them since they were further down the block and she only had to make rounds once every couple of hours – excluding mealtimes. . . but it was still a test in itself to see how well the redheaded Rocket handled being in such close proximity with her ex-friends.

Brock would stare at her blankly as she passed – as though she wasn't even there. It seemed that he didn't know whether to hate her or to attempt to rekindle whatever could have been left of their friendship. Either way, it was obvious that he wasn't going to take the necessary steps to clarify one pathway or the alternative, because it was also evident that, for hate, she wouldn't seem to care, and for friendship, she wouldn't accept any offers.

Ash was a lot more apparent, on the other hand. It became very palpable to Misty the first time they crossed paths after meeting with Giovanni that he considered their friendship completely dead. The glare he'd sent her that evening had sent chills down her spine as she handed him his supper. . . and then he'd called her a 'worthless traitor' and spit at her feet. Of course, she'd refrained from breaking down, right then and there, into tears, admitting everything she could stand to; how she hated herself for what she was doing, but how it was hopefully all for the purpose of defeating some higher evil; and then there was the fact that she was sorry, so very sorry, for putting them all through this, but it was the only thing keeping them alive, and she was doing it all for them. . .

She was doing it all for him.

It was when that thought crossed her own mind on that evening as she stood there just outside of Ash's cell, staring blankly within, that she knew for a fact that she could never say a word to him about any of it.

You see, it's a very frightening revelation when you think you have your entire life – or at least a certain aspect of it – all figured out, and then you realize that the rules have changed overnight – everything's different – and your very reason for doing something has been erased – replaced by something else.

It was so unbelievable for Misty that she almost felt faint for a moment. She'd always simply known that she had a purpose for hating Team Rocket, for fighting them, reaching Giovanni, tearing the whole organization apart; that purpose had been her mother. If nothing else, the memoirs held in her small box had reminded her of that everyday for almost a decade. . . But then she'd woken up one day to the silky, slithering tones of a man she'd only just met – her father – and he was suddenly lashing out, threatening her friends lives, threatening Ash's life, who had meant so much more for so long a time. . .

And she realized at some point that it wasn't really about her mother anymore. . . But did that make her any less well-intentioned? She could ask herself the question a million times and never come up with an answer, because she assumed that all was still going okay, but her own opinion didn't matter. . . and Ash hated her, so she could never ask him.

Misty fell further into her little black hole, because she was a hero for saving her friends lives' (even if they didn't know it); but she was further drowning herself as a villain all the same. It was not her only job to spend a couple afternoons or evenings a month babysitting the captives, and, since she'd succeeded on her first major mission, she'd been advanced to 'B' rank lessons, then 'A', and then had finally reached the DAU's (surprisingly joining the 'II' strategists, rather than the 'UU' elementally-specific), and as she achieved such highly-awarded accomplishments, it was only fair that she have a few more missions to complete, and this time with access to a full team.

She had committed crimes; she hadn't killed anyone, but she had traveled to far-off PokeCenters and stolen Pokemon, and then she'd destroyed aforementioned Centers via arson to rid herself of any evidence left behind. There had also been an overnight mission specializing, supposedly, in her area of expertise. She was to head to Pallet Town to excavate the Oak Research Lab for a few specified files and DNA samples. What they were for, she didn't know, and she didn't want to. . . because it would just make all the more clear what she was doing wrong. It was also lucky that she didn't have to burn the place down; her father assumed that it would draw a bit too much suspicion after the collective Center fires, if there was suddenly a Research Lab blown to bits. . . It didn't fit any MO's, so it would make it harder on the organization to get what they wanted. He was also aware of the fact that Misty had been to the lab plenty of times before, so if a stray hair of skin flake was found lying around the area the files had been taken from, it could be easily explained away.

It made it all the more difficult to feel that she could really repent when she was weighed down with the thought of so many sins, but she forced herself to move on without giving anything away.

Finally, almost four months after Ash, May, Brock, and Misty's lives had all been shot to hell – after Brock and Ash had stopped conversing amongst one another whenever they had the chance because they didn't find it worthwhile anymore, and May had given up on convincing Misty of turning over an old lead because the redhead had been able to trade in her past two evenings of guard watch for private missions – there came the day of revelation for the entire group; or, rather, it was the first of quite a few days that would prove to change their lives, even if they didn't really know it.

May was crying again, and she'd been doing so off and on for the past few hours. One thing that was to be well-known about her tears was that they were very dry, in the sense that they were played in between large weepy gasps. Her throat hurt constantly, her bones felt tired. . . the constant crying didn't help.

The Rocket guard that evening was extremely irritable, or he seemed to be. Through the cell blockage, he continued to glare at the young girl who was understandably traumatized by the course of life she was caught leading. There was one point that he threatened to shut her up himself, but the tone of his voice only made her more inclined to shriek her head off.

By the end of the evening, the Rocket was gripping at the edge of his seat with one hand and inching along his waistline with the other. Whatever it was that he was actually reaching for was unknown, but May was so desperate to drown herself in her own sorrows at that point that she didn't really take any notice. . . and it was that unfortunate decision that caused the spiraling order of events which led to the final showdown against Giovanni.

May had essentially quieted down a bit, but it didn't seem to matter anymore. The Rocket reached his feet, padding at his belt as though still looking for something. As he advanced on her cell, he removed the key to the lock, making it quite evident that he wanted to be in close quarters with her.

She looked up at him as the cell door creaked open and stuttered, "W – what do you want. . . ?"

"You know, you've been a real brat these past few weeks, and my colleagues and I don't really feel like handling you anymore. You won't shut up on your own, although we've given you plenty of chances to do so. . ." The key was latched onto his belt and, next moment, a leather whip-type of object had replaced it, ". . . So I guess it's up to me to end the misery."

". . . Do what? No. . . ! Get away!" May squealed, backing against the wall as the Rocket male came at her. The long, thick strap was held in a tight grip as he knelt down in front of her and shoved her against the floor, drawing the length of the whip against her neck. She barely had just enough time to scream before she felt her vocal cords compressing and she lapsed into silence from the lacking oxygen.

". . . May? May! What's going on. . . ? Are you okay?" Ash yelled from the distance between their cells. He had heard her scream, but he couldn't see her from where he was, especially since she'd moved to the back of her cell. Maybe that was for the better, though; after all, what could he do other than stand there and watch her die, feeling nothing but useless, either way. . . ?

"May! Answer us. . . ! What's happened?" Brock shouted next – almost an entire minute later – but there was no way she could ever hope to answer, even as her lips parted smoothly. . . no sound emerged. As hard as it was to believe, she felt one of her hands twitch, then the other, and slowly but surely, she was able to slither them up and around the Rocket male's wrists; not that it did much good.

She attempted to paw at him, scratch him enough to let go, but it was useless. Ten seconds later, the rush of adrenaline she'd felt had been self-extinguished and she faced the facts. . . She was going to die there, helpless, unable to do a thing to get her friends out of there, or to get Misty to understand that _they_ could try to understand all that was going on. . .

She felt her own eyes roll into the back of her head. Ash and Brock were probably still calling out to her, but the slowed blood rushing to her head, her heart pounding in her ears. . . it was all she could hear.

Suddenly, there was the relief of the extra one hundred-fifty pounds being removed from on top of her. Still she felt blinded, near death, until a familiar voice called out to her.

"C'mon, May, breathe. . . ! Damnit, I should have known something like this would happen. . . If only I'd gotten back sooner!" The voice was registered with terror, grief. . . May fought to take a breath and felt herself start choking on the wonderfully clear and fully attainable oxygen around her. "May. . . ?" The person asked, and then the hopeful and grateful demeanor vanished.

The Hoenn girl's eyes opened blearily and she blinked a couple of times, sure that she was mistaken. Misty stood before her with an almost blank half-glare on her face as she prepared to drag the now unconscious Rocket male back to his look-out. Glancing around, the younger of the two girls noticed another tazer – much like the one used a few months beforehand on Ash – laying on the ground. . . before Misty hurriedly stooped down to pick it up, and then returned to the task at hand.

"He's. . . he's not. . . you know. . . _dead_, is he?" May questioned awkwardly in a thick, scratchy tone that she barely recognized. She brought her hands up to inspect her neck and quickly pulled them away, hissing in pain and reminding herself not to do that again. She didn't need a visual to know that the marks left over from the attempted strangulation would be there for awhile yet.

"No," Misty grunted simply and left it at that as she hooked her arms under the man's shoulders and began heaving him out of the cell, "Grab your blanket and cover yourself as much as you can; without your blood circulating for that long, you're bound to be freezing. . ." She slammed the cell door shut again and began marching the Rocket back to his seat as May came to terms with the fact that Misty was right about her being so cold.

"How'd you—" she started, but was quickly stifled by the combined shouts of Ash and Brock, who'd heard Misty slam the door.

"May. . . ? C'mon, you've gotta answer us a – and tell us you're okay. . . !" Ash pleaded, but May ignored him for the time being.

"How'd you know that?" She asked Misty, indicating the blanket she was reaching for to verify what she meant. Misty sighed, breathing deeply as the Rocket was finally placed in the chair he'd been sitting in hours beforehand. She glanced at May, as though deciding whether or not her question was worth answering, and then she finally spoke.

"When people die, or come close to death, their blood stops running through their veins, or it slows. . ." She stated bluntly, not looking the younger girl in the eye, "It's just a. . . 'fun fact'. . . of sorts that you pick up when you live a life like this," she finished, but something told May that Misty had learned that lesson quite a few years ago; that it was nowhere near as recent as she was attempting to let on.

She opened her mouth to reply, and had just gotten out the forbidden statement, "—You're really talking about your mom, aren't you?" When the chorus of familiar voices rang out again.

"Damnit, May, you better answer us this time. . . ! We're serious! If something's happened, then. . ." Brock let out a weary choke on the angsty tone, the message he was trying to get across being quite clear, and May finally decided to give her two friends the answer they so desperately needed, but she hadn't even begun her statement when Misty turned on her heel, heading for the nearby exit to the cell block.

"Well, I've got to get going. . ."

"No, wait. . . !" May started brokenly, then quickly shouted as loudly as she could to Ash and Brock, "I'm okay, now! _Misty saved me!_" Her declaration definitely did the trick, seeing as Misty stopped in her tracks and there was nothing but utter silence on the other end.

Avoiding the fact that his former best friend's name had just been mentioned, Ash stated in a strangely hysterically calm tone, ". . . But what did you need saving _from_?"

Misty sighed again, and it seemed to be in relief that no old wounds had been opened for the raven-haired trainer. He still mistrusted her, hated her even, meaning that there was no reason for Giovanni to suspect that Ash still believed her innocent. Good for him.

She continued to exit the cell-block but May called out to her again.

"No, Misty, you can't go. . . !" She broke off into a fit of painfully hacking coughs and Misty gave one final assertion.

"Don't worry; the guard should be out for at least another few hours; the shock I gave him when straight to the brain." Her voice was a lot softer than the younger girl's, so May was the only one to hear the comment; and that was when Ash stepped up to the plate to add insult to injury.

"May, just let her go. . . ! After all, she's had no problem turning her back on us so far. And whatever she did to help you, I'm sure there's a price; there always is with Team Rocket. They already have your Pokemon, though," May seemed to twitch here, possibly at the memory, "so maybe they're looking for young and impressionable recruits at this point."

Misty ignored the sting of this comment and stared straight at the door as she said what she though – what she hoped – would be her last goodbye to the young girl staring at her from behind.

"I've got to go – I have somewhere I need to be. But you don't have to worry. In another hour and a half, the guard shift will change and I'll fit in someone less aggressive to watch you. Now I really have to go, so. . . goodbye." The door finally slammed behind her, and as she walked away, she could not have been more pleased that she would hopefully never have to face their words, and therefore, their judgment, again.

And now it was off to see Giovanni, because there was absolutely no doubt in her mind that he had something to do with this or, at least, she knew she had a bone to pick with him either way. She wasn't sure how to make her entrance at first, and, in anxiety, she halted a meter from his door, before deciding once and for all that storming his office might have been better anyway, made more of an impression.

However, when she first marched inside and shut the door securely behind her, she found herself facing one of the most peculiar scenes. Her father, unlike ever other time she'd been sent to see him, was not sitting at his desk, nor did he look shocked, as though her stampede of an entrance had been unexpected. In fact, he was standing in front of his desk with his arms behind his back in a proper sort of way.

"You. . . !" Misty started, ignoring the obvious suspicious nature of this entire situation and beginning her grilling of the man before her immediately. "You told me that they'd be safe here! Or have you forgotten? Your promise to me that they wouldn't be hurt is the only reason I agreed to be a part of your little circus act!" She finished in an assumed shout, staring him down from almost five meters away. "So tell me why the hell I had to fight off one of your men while he was in the middle of strangling May just now?"

"You sound as though. . ." Giovanni cleared his throat and replied disappointedly, ". . . they still mean something to you. Have I not taught you enough by now? You entered into this organization under the pretext that you'd follow my every order, and that you'd deny your friendship with those naïve children . . . but you're not abiding by the regulations of our agreement either, are you?" He smirked, "Tonight, what happened. . . well. . . I figured that everything that's gone on constituted your getting taught a little lesson."

Misty blinked, aghast at the news she'd just become aware of.

"Y – you call what you did teaching me a lesson? She almost died! Just what were you trying to teach me that involved such a technicality? You don't have the right to mess with our contract like that! I've done everything for you, destroyed myself and every single relationship that ever meant anything to me, all because you told me to! Your only promise to me was to not hurt my friends, or instigate their getting hurt. . . ! How hard could that possibly be for you to handle?" She asked furiously, remaining a safe enough distance away so that they weren't within each other's reach.

"You've done so much for me, that's right, but don't start feeling that that excuses you from anything. You serve me and that's the way it will always be. _That's_ why you ended those relationships – destroyed yourself – and not because of some trivial deal we made when you were still so foolish." Misty opened her mouth to respond, but Giovanni tempted her with a hard stare to keep her silence, "Maybe you've yet to learn that lesson, maybe you've yet to see a sacrifice large enough in your life before you realize that you don't want to be a part of it, that it's better to give it up – that other life that you still hold so dear."

Misty blinked at the smirk on his face. He was finally moving, inching his arms from behind his back so that he could reach into his breast pocket. She, too, began to lean towards her Pokemon belt, just in case he happened to pull out some sort of dangerous weapon. . . She wanted to be ready. . . And then he laced his fingers into the pocket and removed. . . a piece of paper?

Misty blinked again, and then squinted.

No, that wasn't right. . . It was smaller than average, and she couldn't really make out what exactly was on it, but she knew for a fact that the graphics were far too detailed and colorful to be just words in black ink. But then. . .

. . . The realization crossed her mind before she'd even thought it through. In the six-point-eight seconds it took for her to draw a random Pokeball, Giovanni had already removed the cigarette lighter from another pocket with his other hand, lifted it up to the photo, and lit it aflame.

"No; mom!" Misty called out desperately, "Go, Pokemon!" There was a flash of temporary, familiar light in the dark room, and then, a small creature appeared on the ground between father and daughter; a friend that Misty hadn't seen for months, and one whose presence she now dreaded because she knew how impossibly dangerous it could be for him. . . But for now, as she watched Giovanni drop the last remnants of her mother's memory to the floor in a rather careless way, she felt she couldn't be bothered with it.

"Corsola, use _Water Gun_ on that Polaroid!" She pointed, and he did so, taking only a millisecond longer than average to respond, what with how long it had been since he'd been out of his Pokeball, and also since he'd seen his master. "Now, stop. . . !" The fire wasn't even completely out yet, just still barely active, but picking back up fast. Not wanting to risk fluid damage to the only memory of her mom, Misty leapt forward, hurriedly removing one of her gloves and patting at the old photograph until the flames stopped licking at her palm.

She sighed, winced, but was grateful; the corners were rounded, furled with graying dust, but the most of the main centerfold of her mother's face, her expression, her smile; it was all still intact. She flattened out her glove and placed the photo carefully within it, folding the material overtop it as safely as possible.

Then she rose from her kneeling position in front of Giovanni, glaring fully at him, and returned to Corsola's side. She refrained from clenching her burnt hand but the fury she felt for the man now was coming off in waves. What would she do to get back at him for all of the misery he'd been causing everyone lately. . . ?

"Corsola. . ." She stated bitingly, "Use _Spike Cannon_; and. . . don't stop until I tell you to."

"Cor. . . ?" Corsola peered worriedly – inquiringly – up at his master. She'd never issued him an order against another human being before, no matter how bad the situation got. . . Should he go through with it?

"Oh," Giovanni laughed contemptuously, "is this your pitiful attempt at rebellion? After all this time? And you're going to initiate it by setting your Pokemon against me in an unofficial, illegal match without an arena, a referee, or even a rightful opponent. . . ?" He smirked at her and cleared his throat, "You and I, we must be related. . . Just look at all that we have in common. . . !"

"Now, Corsola!" She shouted, ignoring the insult. Her Pokemon quaked, squealed in fear at her tone, but nevertheless stood forward out of loyalty and affection. He could tell she was pissed beyond all hell, but he could also see quite clearly how terrified she was to finally be taking a stand. . . And now that she'd finally started, she certainly couldn't back down. Just as he was beginning to glow an almost-white, powering up for the onslaught, there was a flick of the wrist and, quite suddenly, Giovanni held a Pokeball in his hand as well, "What's that?"

Her father scoffed as he replied, "A defensive notion. . . You cannot expect me to simply stand here and allow myself to be butchered to pieces by an insubordinate and her designated. . . puffball. It's not looked kindly upon in any authoritative reviews, I must tell you." And, with that out in the open, he thrust the capture device out into the fray and allowed it to release, "Go, Nidoking!"

The flash of light faded just in time for Corsola's '_Spike Cannon'_ to go off, and as it impacted with the largely-massed Poison-type Pokemon, there was a sort of explosion and a few smoke clouds billowed between the two trainers. Once they cleared (about twenty seconds later), Misty's glare was to be replaced by an expression of suspended horror because it seemed that her father had been injecting his Pokemon with steroids, seeing as the Nidoking was almost twice his average size.

Misty glanced at Corsola, knowing that there was no way he could handle such an adversary, no matter how much faith she had in him. . . That _Spike Cannon_ the poison-type intercepted hadn't even fazed him in the least, and that was one of Corsola's strongest attacks. . .

She was just about ready to withdraw him into his Pokeball and replace him with a more formidable option, possibly Gyarados, when Giovanni's chillingly cold, smooth tone rung out from across the quiet of the steep office.

"Don't you dare."

"What?" She asked in a strangled tone of voice, and the Lure Ball almost slipped from her hand.

"I have been meaning to ask you. . . how you came to own that Pokemon. I know for a fact that you didn't enter this organization with him in toe, because the particular species wasn't recorded along with the others, and you haven't caught him during your resident position here because you would have registered him with us. So the simplest assumption would be that you've had him for awhile now – since before you joined Team Rocket – and you've attempted to hide him from us for some such reason. . . But why would you need to do something like that? What secrets do you have to work so hard to keep?" He asked, staring her directly in the eye.

She understood, then. . . He knew, or he must have had some idea. After her shouting match with Ash about it before she'd returned to the Rocket base with her friends, how could he not? It was so obvious; she'd been under surveillance, she hadn't kept her voice down, and her comment had been suspicious enough without Ash replying oh-so responsibly to it. . . It didn't take much to put everything together.

Now she just had to wonder what he would do about it.

Hoping to head him off with an excuse, she uttered the first thing that came to mind.

"I. . . I didn't show him off, make him known, because. . . he's my weakest Pokemon. I haven't had a chance to train him much; there's no way he'd survive here."

"The training regimen instructed for my recruits is perfectly suitable for any Pokemon. Contrary to what you may think, we do not grade Pokemon as 'weak' or 'strong' and, as such, deal with them accordingly. Actually, Corsola is a very peculiar species – Water and Rock-type with a powerful Recover specialty that almost always one-ups the unknown opponent. This Pokemon is evidently worth training. . . so there shouldn't be a reason for this weakness causing an everlasting disappearance. Is there, perhaps, something else going on? You'd better say so before I tend to open an investigation of my own; and if I do that, I will find what you're hiding, and I'll use whatever means needed to divulge it."

Misty swallowed, aware that her excuse was shot and that her father was now offering her a way out. . . or was it a way further in? She couldn't truly be sure, but she'd spent years keeping the trial EAB out of the hands of Team Rocket at the request of a ghost, and she knew one thing; she respected that ghosts' opinion far more than anyone she was going to be meeting here.

"I don't have anything to hide; I suppose I just overreacted to your expectations." That wasn't the best answer either. He was going to see through it, look through her historical review, and end up telling her that he indeed knew everything and that he had proof to boot.

Her hopes that that would be all he had planned confirmed that she still underestimated him.

"Hn, if that's the case," he cleared his throat in an unnecessary sort of way, "Nidoking, use _Slash_ attack." He nodded carelessly towards his daughter and her Pokemon.

"No, Corsola, re—" Misty started, but as her tongue attempted to lace its way around the second syllable of the word, she found she couldn't speak anymore. Rather than lashing out at Corsola, the poison-type had launched itself directly at her, and the end result was that the Pokeball was knocked from her hand and her mind was left completely numbed from the shock. At some point, she could have surmised that she was lucky to get away with no more of an injury than that, but the battle had only just begun. . . And as she considered that thought, she noticed the capturing device rolling across the floor and into the gathering darkness.

"I can't allow you to obstruct my justice. Stand down." Giovanni commented brusquely but she was so stunned that she couldn't do anything anyway, couldn't even glare at him. Corsola attempted to make a beeline for her upon seeing the Nidoking staring her down, her position being that she was quite helpless on her own, but, next moment, that same adversary had turned and cornered the Water-type and coaxed him into battle, "Use _Stomp_."

The Poison-type Pokemon conceded readily and roared loudly before bringing one of his huge claw-like feet down.

"Corsola, _Mirror Coat_!" Misty was well-aware that the defensive tactic was only fully effective against water-elemental attacks, but as long as it gave her friend enough time to. . . "Dodge. . . !"

The Water / Rock-cross-type Pokemon made its escape, leaping to his immediate right and unintentionally caving head-first into the wall. He squealed again but was able to move, and hopped up into the air to avoid another double 'Slash' attack aimed for his back.

"_Tackle_, then _Bubblebeam_! After that, circle around him and use _Spike Cannon_ again!" Misty shouted desperately and began looking around for her friends Pokeball, but in the eminent darkness of her fathers' office, it was useless to try and locate anything that was more than four feet away. Cursing, she hopelessly attempted to grapple at one of her other Pokeballs, but, after going completely numb, her burned arm had continued to enter the next phase of injury, that being that her nerves seemed to have short-circuited and she couldn't even bend her fingers anymore. . .

She looked down at the limb incredulously, but before she could even think of setting down the item she was still holding in her other so that she could bring forth some assistance for her friend, her father spoke from across the room.

"You're very lucky that you can't move, and you should be smarter than to think that you could get away with trying anything else." He commented from the ten meter distance, noting her actions. "If you'd actually succeeded, I might have had to kill you and all of your friends, whether they're human or not. Let's try to keep this battle as legit as possible, shall we? You've already made an attempt on my life, after all. . . How many years in prison do you think you'd get for that? Let alone for the men you murdered back in Cerulean seven months ago. . ." At the horrified expression on his daughters' face, Giovanni elaborated, "Oh, you didn't think I knew? Well, I hardly consider sweeping the majority of them up into an on-land cyclone and suffocating them, then proceeding to leave their corpses there – twenty meters from the front of the newly abandoned Cerulean City Gym – a satisfactory clean-up job; and it wasn't very subtle, either. . . But I suppose that's what you're here for, isn't it?"

Misty hadn't even thought about it. On some plain, she supposed that she'd considered herself above her father and his 'games', which wasn't hard to do. . . But she'd completely forgotten what had happened back at her hometown, how many lives she'd had to end to save her own, and those of her Pokemon, to get out of there safe and sound. . . It was all the methodical approach to self-preservation, she reasoned, but in the next moment, she realized that that didn't make her feel much better. . .

After all, Ash, Brock, May, and countless other people had come across Team Rocket at least once in their lives. Ash faced Jessie and James at least thee times a week – well, before this entire event, he had. . . And every encounter had ended reasonably peacefully, considering. He'd never killed anyone, she was sure of it. . . and neither had anyone else she'd known. . .

The word 'repent' spread like wildfire throughout her head, and the pure possibility of it stretched to her heart, body, and soul. She glared down at that damned immobile hand of hers and willed it to move, attempted to stretch her fingers as far apart as possible, but all that occurred was she became even more away of the tingling numbness.

A wail approached from the makeshift battlefield and she turned to see Nidoking corner Corsola and collide with him, using a _Body Slam_ attack. Cursing herself for not paying attention, she waited until the larger of the two monsters removed himself from on top of the other, and then took the chance.

"Corsola, use _Recover_! Dodge any on-coming attacks and try a spinning tackle! I know it's not your specialty, but try and use your horns to your advantage! Then, if he tries to grab you or Stomp you or something, use your Water Gun to propel yourself out of the way! Other than that, keep alternating between Spike Cannon and Recover!" She and her father both watched attentively as the small creature began to glow white, regaining his energy.

"And there it is, that peculiar touch that helps make Corsola such an adept advantage in battle. . . Now all I have to learn is so special." Giovanni commented, sounding only mildly interested in everything that was taking place, even though it was his office that was being destroyed, "You know, it's these types of opportunistic appearances that can make the spectatorship worthwhile, and earn the victory. And other times. . ." He cleared his throat in a bitter, meaningful sort of way, ". . . it just goes to show how pitiful some trainers are in thinking that they can stand a chance against certain others. Nidoking, use _Horn Attack_," of course, he meant on Corsola.

This, she had to admit, was strange. Nidoking was at a high level, sure, and well-trained, accurate, etc. . . . but Horn Attack was undoubtedly going to be one of his least effective techniques imaginable, especially when facing a half-rock-type Pokemon. Her father was trying to pull something, she knew; he was storing up adrenaline for the major offense. . .

"The Pokeball. If I can just pull Corsola back, I can save him. . . but I have to find it first." She muttered, glancing around determinedly again with half-lidded eyes.

"You wouldn't be looking for this, would you?" Giovanni asked, and Misty looked up just in time to see a flash of red and white glinting from a small, round object in his hand. It was the Pokeball. He must have paid attention to the direction it rolled in and then proceeded to pick it up while Misty was paying attention to the battle. And now he was standing there and staring at her with a very snide, very obvious smirk on his face. "Do I have to keep telling you? I will not let you interfere." He turned the minimized Pokeball around in his palm once more before inserting it into his pocket. The next thing Misty knew, the empty hand had collected itself in the grip of a gun handle and the open barrel had been pointed at her.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked, ragingly horrified at this turn of events.

"Securing my future," Giovanni replied, keeping her in the line of fire, and he turned to face Nidoking and Corsola, still in mid-battle, "Use _Stomp_, _Bite_, _Hyper Beam_, and _Slash_!" It was the most offensive combination Misty had heard and she still tried to stop it, ran for the two Pokemon to put herself in the fray, but was forced to dodge a couple of stray – warning – shots from the weapon in her fathers hand on the way, so it was impossible to reach them in time.

". . . Corsola, try _Mirror Coat_ and double it over with a shot of _Spike Cannon_!" She cried desperately as she managed to trip over her own two feet just a meter away from the scrimmage, ". . . A – and _Recover_ if it becomes too much. . . !" But she wasn't sure he'd have the chance; she just had to hope. . .

The Nidoking brought his foot down hard, but the shield Corsola had resurrected around himself was enough to deflect it, at least at first. The veil of a defense, glowing, visibly started cracking, and then, the next thing anyone knew, a thousand or more shards of glittering light, which expended into nothing, shattered everywhere. Nidoking took his chance to kneel down and open up his widely gaping mouth so that his large fangs bit roughly into Corsola's back. This was just in time for Corsola to unleash his _Spike Cannon_, which was aimed for the beasts' throat.

It was an impact on both parts but, finally, it seemed that the Water-type had caused more damage. Nidoking had released the grip he'd gained and spewed the blood from between his teeth. He roared in agony and it seemed that the pain might have just been too much for him, for once, seeing as nothing else had been powerful enough so far. Unfortunately, the _Stomp_ and _Bite_ combination had still collided with Corsola and slowed his reflexes. He didn't have a chance to start healing himself before the Poison-type had him under his claws and he'd fallen victim to a triple _Slash_ attack.

The scars from the time when Misty had placed the test EAB bullet beneath her Pokemon's hide were just slightly apparent on the surface of his pink and white backside, even after all of those years of training and healing. Strangely enough, the rock-type defense seemed lessened because of it, the flesh seemed so much more tender, so when the claws of his opponent ran across his back, it tore him completely open, causing his screech to ring out and ricochet around the walls and corners of the room.

"N – no. . ." Misty murmured, as the blood was drawn more and scarlet splattered everywhere that was in a two-meter radius, including all over her. Her hands and feet and uniform were soaked, and even her face was dotted with spots of violet-red, but she was so terrified that her heart was barely beating and it left her still. She was just starting to get the feeling back in her limbs when Nidoking started to glow an off-white, and three seconds later, Corsola had been blasted upside his abdomen so that he was seemingly split in half.

The blood was not the only disgusting, unbelievable thing to find itself all over the floor and walls. There was still some cracked-looking pink and white fragments – thick – and then there was the other organs; heart, lungs, and intestines.

Misty heard the 'chink' of something small and steel hitting the floor and rolling away in some anonymous direction.

"You thought, perhaps, that you could get away with it?" Giovanni asked quite suddenly, and she stiffly looked up to face him, although there was no positive way to tell for sure if she was truly paying attention to what he was saying, "You still don't get it; you think that it's okay to hide something from me, you think that you can get away with it, but you just don't understand. . . I will always be able to tell when you're keeping something from me. You are my subordinate, and no matter how much strength you gain as a trainer, as a Gym Leader, or as a person, you will always be beneath me, so I suggest you learn your place before it's too late for you.

"I have been wondering for quite awhile where my trial EAB went. After we confiscated your bag upon entrance, it was easy to find the disc your mother stole so many years ago, but after reading the letter she'd written to you preceding her death, it became obvious that you had hidden the bullet away somewhere. Unfortunately I could not afford to spend weeks, months, on countless searching. . . And then a lucky break came." Giovanni leant over his desk and pressed a switch, and the huge windows behind him glared with a white light, illuminating the blood all around them.

It was like a television show, and Misty saw a close-up of herself on the outskirts of the Viridian Forest.

"_A – at least Corsola's safe. . ."_ She was saying in a small tone, before the camera's view swung to Ash, and even through all of Jessie and May's yelling in the background, the current Misty watching this could hear and understand quite clearly what was going on.

"_Actually, well, we thought you sent him to us intentionally to remind us to use the Nav's to find out where you were and, because of that, we assumed that you'd wanted us to bring him along, so you could have him back. . ."_ The words left the raven-haired boy's mouth and echoed around the office before the view on-screen switched to that of Misty's suddenly horrified expression, and then it was back to him and his frown, "_Were we wrong. . . ?"_ He raised his voice then to be sure that she could hear him through the racket Jessie and May were making in the background, "_But, Myst, what's his safety so much more important than any of your other Pokemon. . . ?"_

And the picture was frozen on his troubled expression as he awaited her answer.

"It was a very good question, too," her father commented thoughtfully, "It even made me begin to wonder just what you were willing to do to keep certain things a secret. . ." He pulled a small blue book out of nowhere, a very familiar one, and held it up for her to see, ". . . It's like the fact that you're so in love with him – you have been for years – and now he can't even stand to look at you. If he found out, I wonder, just how disgusted would he be?" He smirked as though this was all just a lot of fun for him; but Misty couldn't be bothered with it anymore. Before, she would have blamed him, damned him, said something spiteful in return, but at this point, she just couldn't believe it anymore. "Anyway, I give you congratulations. Even I never would have suspected that you'd be so determined to keep my hands off of that property. . . and now it's lost somewhere in this room, quite useless to the both of us. But how old were you when you came up with that idea – to use your Pokemon, your friend, in such a fiendish way? How long did it take you to actually go through with it?"

He sounded far too interested in that, and still, she could not answer. She was thirteen when the thought first came to her, fourteen when she finally went through with it. But that was only because it took so long to find and capture the suitable Pokemon. If she had caught Corsola while she was younger, would it still have been so easy to do what she did? And to even ask it of him beforehand. . . ? Or had she simply had that much of a demented mind from the start?

"Well, either way, I have what I want now – the EAB project is finally underway once again after so many years of having to be put on hold thanks to your poorly heroic efforts and even those of your mother. And now, you've hopefully learned what you need so that you can truly face that new life; the one that you've been so tentative about until now." He crossed the rounded distance to the armchair behind his desk and sat down, looking quite comfortable for a man who'd just ordered the death of an innocent creature in his office. He pulled out a Pokeball and held it up, towards the corner of the room most splattered with Corsola's remains, where Nidoking was standing completely and utterly still with obedience, "Return. . . !"

There was a flash of red light and the Poison-type was gone, leaving nothing but a pair of footprints embedded in the trail of blood.

"I'm afraid, now, that I must call for a janitorial crew, so if you wouldn't mind. . ." He left her to fill in the blanks, commenting nonchalantly, waving her on, and, as though she were running on mechanics, Misty rose to her feet again and simply left without another glance at anything because it was just too much to reminded of it all. She didn't even ask for her Pokemon's Pokeball back. . . After all, she didn't need anymore memoirs for lost loved ones.

The trip back to her living quarters was swift, silent, and, though she crossed paths with many a person she knew, they all glanced down at her bloodstained attire before turning back mindlessly to their own business, no comments being made. It didn't matter anymore; she would have no reply for their snide insults at this point because her thoughts were on another plain entirely.

It was all her fault.

She entered her room and snapped the door shut behind her, leaning her head against it as she felt her skull start pounding, suppressing her brain. She couldn't breathe. All of a sudden, she was very aware of how damp her uniform was and she couldn't hold back any longer, rushing to the small bathroom adjacent to her bed accommodations and held her head over the toilet, unable to keep back the vomit any longer.

The photo of her mom had dropped beside her and as she finished her business, she stared blearily down at it for a few seconds, allowing herself the chance to wonder – yes – she had preserved something from her past. . . but at such a high cost, had it truly been worth it?

Next she flew at the sink, turning on the cold water and spitting into it seethingly before blocking the drain. She took a spare towel, soaked it through, and began patting it against the cloth of her uniform, hoping to get some of the more prominent stains out. It was so disgusting; it was so infuriating; it was so. . . her fault.

Years ago, she had told Corsola that hiding the trial EAB the way they had would be dangerous, immediately painful, but that she would protect him. She'd hoped that that was where it would remain, the situation they would be caught in with each other, until she was able to break through her fathers stronghold to find more evidence of his crimes. . . She'd told her Pokemon that he would be safe, but now. . . Even if she couldn't have known that there was really no way to keep her promise, she couldn't help but blame herself.

Giving up on the scarlet blemishes, Misty rampaged for the cluttered piece of junk that was her dresser, hoping to find something – anything – else to wear, but the drawers she continued to ravage through seemed to be completely empty. She had nothing else to wear; she had to live with the horrible feeling of Corsola's death physically dirtying her. . .

And then there was the sole truth in the statement Giovanni had made. She had already murdered probably two dozen men and women seven months ago on the day she'd fled Cerulean City. After that, she'd had her friends get involved in the overly-dangerous situation she was a part of, then she'd gotten herself kidnapped, May injured, and the younger girls' Pokemon stolen – all in one hour – before learning that she'd have to go capture all of her friends, and bring them to the Team Rocket headquarters. At that point, it was only going to take a certain little bit of time before they learned to distrust her as much as was suitable. And now, another "bad deed" to add to her list was that. . . she'd also murdered Corsola, her Pokemon partner, her friend.

Misty collapsed onto her bed, unaware until that moment that she'd been reduced to tears. She hadn't really had a plan up until now, she had never known what to expect. There were times that she defied certain commands in order to spur certain other events into existence, but they had never been tied into such a collective order that she could have had it all ready like that from beginning to end.

She turned over, not wanting to face the rest of her room and doorway leading so easily to the ultimate – and yet, so unattainable – freedom, and ended up facing the grayish wall. Even though she hadn't had anything planned, it was still all ruined in the most thorough way possible.

She was halfway to blinking back a new set of tears when some anonymous though came at her from the sidelines of her previous persona. It was true that, every road she'd been requested or forced to take before had led to negative impacts on her life, "bad decisions", and all of that had left her alone in this place to be consumed by that negativity. . . But it did _not_ end here. Simply because so much had been her fault and so much had gone to waste; it did not mean that there was nothing else that could ever be done. Besides, as far as it was known by anyone, there were still three people in need of her, whether they would accept that fact willingly or not.

So Misty cried her last tears, she bid Corsola's soul farewell – thanking him for everything he'd ever done and apologizing for how she'd been unable to prevent things from turning out – and rose from her bed again, praying that the bloodstains were at least a little less apparent than they were before. It was an exhausting job, you know, having to _care_ about anything at that point, but she knew it was her responsibility to try and convince Brock, Ash, and May that she was not as lost as she seemed to be; it was her hope that she would be able to aid them in a successful escape from the Rocket headquarters, and that they would all forgive her in time for her past offenses against them; but it would surely be a lot more difficult to convince them if she couldn't even hope to explain the scarlet hue raining down her front.

Nevertheless, she would try; her father would not own her anymore.

She let a bitter chuckle escape her as she exited the room, replacing the almost-homely surroundings she'd had with the empty and highly uncomfortable (in a professional sort of way) hallway. What would Giovanni think of her, after all, if he'd ever become aware that his final attempt at teaching her that ever-thoughtful lesson about whichever life she should be focused on leading had been the trigger to push her towards her treason against him? No doubt he would be scorned by that detail.

However, by the time Misty had snuck her way down one of the corporate elevators and through the stone passage leading off into the underground cell-block, a renewed sense of modesty had swept over her. No doubt she couldn't go very far without it, after what had happened barely an hour ago. . . But she didn't want that to grip too strong a hold on her now; she had grieved, she would always – _always_ – be guilt-ridden, but this matter needed her attention at the moment.

With that thought as her finally assurance, she bull-rushed the entrance to her ex-friends 'homes' before her subconscious could have any chance to object.

"Misty. . . !" May whispered in the most awed tone of voice possible. It seemed that Misty's meaning in her last goodbye supposedly being, well, her last, had reached the Hoenn girl, and she had come to believe the hopelessness of it all, too.

Misty didn't say anything just yet, but turned to inspect the state of the Rocket guard sitting at the desk. It was the one from before, still unconscious, and the redhead took a chance to wonder about why he was there at all, seeing as the shift switch had taken place about a half-an-hour before. . . but she didn't want to waste time dwelling on it; after everything else that had gone on that evening, a belated shift change was nothing so disbelieving.

"May, listen—" but the younger girl chose to interrupt before the redhead could say anything more, catching sight of the bloodstains on her clothes.

"Misty, that's blood, isn't it?" The Hoenn girl stated in mid-panic, "It's not yours, right? Oh, god, what happened? Are you okay?" She breathed deeply and immediately began looking Misty over for any open wounds. The worst she found, about two-point-five seconds later, was the burn on the older girl's arm, "Oh, no, what's that? I knew something must have gone wrong – wherever you went. . . I mean, you just left like that and. . ."

". . . Never mind that now, May." Misty sighed, glancing down the lane towards the cells that Ash and Brock occupied, hoping to listen in on any sounds or indications they might have been making to insinuate that they were still awake, however, either they were focusing on ignoring the discussion between the two girls, or they had already fallen asleep on the pitiful excuses for cots in the five-by-nine-foot cells. Misty supposed it was a good thing; she didn't think she had enough strength to face Ash right then; not just yet. ". . . Right now, because you're the only one who still wants relatively anything at all to do with me. . . _we need to talk_."

OoOoO

**Notes** – Wow, it's been awhile, huh? Actually, I'm very disappointed in this chapter. I mean, it started out excellent, but then I lost something. . . I don't know what, exactly – maybe it's what you call "inspiration" – but, whatever the stuff was, it just flew straight out the window. . . . and then it came back in again. . . and then it flew back out again. . . and then it came back in again. . . and then it flew back out again. . . Whew. There was just nothing left in me by the end of this, but, hopefully, the next part will be much better.

Now, let's see. . . Thanks so much to those who've reviewed this fic over the past however long! For some reason, I've been getting a few dedicated reviewers to return from way back when because they've heard me detail into this fic on a forum or something and have actually gotten semi-interested. . . Hey, it was enough for them to R&R at least, right? And, for that, I'm thankful! But I'm also thankful to those readers who love my work so much they have me on "Author Alert" and check their email every hour on the hour to see if I've uploaded or updated anything new! You guys may be slightly obsessive and – quite honestly – a bit easily impressed, but I love ya anyway!

Oh, what do I say now? Er, thanks so much to the very few people who I hope will review this chapter of IS, too, even through all of its lameness. . . Trust me, I know at least a few parts of it were bad and I'm sorry I couldn't work with them more before I posted, but I just didn't know what to do. I've been forcing myself to stand as far away from the walls in my room as possible to keep myself from bashing my head against them every time I start in on writing this fic, because I always feel it turns out wrong. . . Anyway, hopefully the next part will be better. Hopefully. But probably not.

And two – no, wait; three – more things that I'll try and slam into this last paragraph before I move on to my ever-faithful spoiler. . . First of all, I just had eight teeth forcefully ripped out of my precious mouth (actually, that was last week, but the swelling just managed to go down, like, yesterday, and the tenderness in my jaw is still apparent; plus, tomorrow, I have to go back and get the stitches taken out of my gums), so when you become critical in your review, try and play in a bit of the sympathy card. Second of all, I just got a new job that I've begun training at and so it might take time away from my "Authoress-ing Schedule", just so you know. Third of all, I plan on starting college between summer and fall, and that'll _definitely_ take time away from my "Authoress-ing Schedule".

I guess it's a good thing I'm only a fairly decent writer, huh?

**Spoilers for Chapter Six** – Misty is right in assuming that May is the only one who still wants to befriend her. Ash is adamant in his opinion that she's working for Team Rocket, and Brock has settled for the life in which he will never escape his prison – or, in other words, he basically agrees with the raven-haired trainer. But away from the two boys, Misty and May are making plans for an escape. However, there are many things standing in the groups' way. Their own doubts, confinements. . . And, in the end, all of this will lead up to something that costs them dearly. . . But the question remains, which one of them – _if_ _not more than one _– will be the one to die?


	7. Chapter Six

**Author **- Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon; if I did, Illicit Saints would be a feature film and the anime would be a little more adult and a little more Pokeshippy. No, wait. . . A lot more Pokeshippy. Lots more; yup. But I don't, so it doesn't matter in any case.

**Warning **- Contains sexual references and displays, graphic violence, etc. Rated 'M' for mature themes.

OoO

**Characters **/ **Ages **-

**Misty **/ **17**

**Ash **/ **16**

**Brock **/ **20**

**May **/ **13**

**Jessie **/ **22**

**James **/ **22**

OoO

**Pokemon - Illicit Saints**

Chapter Six

OoOoO

". . . We need to talk." May's eyes widened but, as Misty stepped forward, neither girl lost focus on each other.

"T - to talk?" There was a gulp of excited anxiety, but in the fearful sense as the younger girl looked the older one up and down. Obviously, she wasn't sure she wanted to hear anything there was to be said; but, in the end, there wasn't much of a choice, "Y - yeah, okay. . . What is it?"

"Not now, though." Misty glanced edgily back at the unconscious guard sitting behind the desk. "I'll be back in twenty minutes. He should be awake by then, and be expecting to be replaced. I'll wander in and say I was sent to relieve him. Don't react to my presence, whatever you do. He'll be looking for that; I knocked him out from behind so he never saw my face, but he knows our 'history'. He'll be looking to you, most likely, to see if you have a reaction to seeing me. So, in other words, you'd better not."

"O - oh, okay. . . Then. . . B - but. . ." May glanced just as uneasily at the guard as Misty had a few moments ago, gripping her throat at the memory of her assault. It was obvious that she was bound not to forget the man who'd almost ended her life barely an hour or two before; not anytime soon at least.

Understanding the younger girls' fear, Misty sighed, knelt a bit closer, and attempted to place a relieving grip on May's shoulder, as though hoping she could at least do one thing right in alleviating the negative spiral of despondence coursing through her. Unfortunately, the moment Misty's bloodstained glove touched the Hoenn girl, she shrunk back, flinching in almost terror and clear disgust of the grotesque appearance. Unable to blame her, Misty pulled away as well, not looking at her own hands to verify it.

There was a pause that lasted only five or so seconds, but it seemed so abysmally still, the air stagnant, and clandestine, that it was longer.

". . . I'm sorry." May mumbled, not looking up.

"Don't worry about it, and. . . don't worry about that, either. I'll be waiting right outside the door for when he wakes up. If he starts to even attempt and make another move in your direction, I'll intervene before anything can happen." And the Rocket rebel reached her feet, backing towards the door. "I'll be going now; see you later --"

"-- I'm really sorry; w - whatever it is, whatever you've got to tell me, however this all happened. . . I'll believe you."

So she knew. She didn't know exactly what had happened - all of the details - but she knew that the discussion Misty was calling her out for was definitely not strictly social. Misty could only breathe a deep sigh of relief, but it barely started making its way through her when it morphed into a terse choke of a sob. She didn't want to talk about the regretful choices she'd made. . . but she knew, she had to, she knew that none of her former companions would ever truly trust her again unless she finally reverted back to speaking the truth about the current events in her life.

And so as she exited the cell block and closed the door behind her, and as she collapsed to the floor in a near-withering mess, Misty focused her attention on keeping herself from crying. Tears were the one thing she could not handle right now. . . and she knew that all it might possibly do for May was wake her sympathetic side. And that wasn't what she wanted out of this; she merely wanted the girl to understand, and Ash and Brock, too. They could choose to blame her for anything they wanted in the end – she didn't care. Misty only wanted them to know all that had happened, and that she was there for them now to help them escape the nightmare.

She waited for the next ten or so minutes, raising herself to her feet so that none of the Rockets would comment on how small, weak, and insignificant she looked; no, instead, this gave them the chance to investigate the wear-and-tear of her uniform, and then comment on it, which was so much worse. . . Then she would flash her special units badge with a hardened, dissatisfied expression on her face and tell them to be on their way or else she'd alert their discrepancies to her father.

It took everything she had in her not to spit the word out as though it were something foul, like a slug that just wouldn't die.

And finally, after almost twenty minutes of simply standing there, resolute, Misty heard the faint sounds of ragged motion coming from beyond the door, along with a few moans. She hurriedly peered through the doors' peep hole to see the anonymous Rocket guard reaching his feet, stumbling from his chair and feeling at the back of his neck, where a porous, infectious mess of an open wound was currently leaking out pus.

He yelped and withdrew his hand, turned to growl at May, who shrunk back, not daring to make a sound. He was just about to make his way over to the young girl when a door slammed somewhere to his immediate left and a voice spoke sharply, drawing his attention away for the moment.

"It's about time you woke up from that little nap of yours. . . ! I was sent to relieve you almost an hour ago." The man turned and faced Misty, and the staring contest began. "You're just lucky that I didn't report the incident to IA; otherwise Giovanni would probably have to deal with you himself."

The man narrowed his eyes and, without much warning, reeled around to face May. May almost squealed from the fear, but she knew to hold her ground. Misty had warned her about this. She attempted not to look the older girl in the eye, and the one time that she did, she turned her head away and muttered the word, "Traitor," with a bat of the eyes and an upturned nose for good effect.

This, however, must have been too much, for the male Rocket smirked as though something had immediately clicked and faced Misty again.

"It was you, wasn't it? Who did. . . this. . . to me?" He drew a hand to the back of his neck, having forgotten about the sore there, and hissed angrily in pain.

May sat behind the two, silently hoping everything would turn out okay but knowing that, on some level, they were doomed. They had to be; how could Misty hope to make up for whatever she could have possibly done wrong. . . ?

"I have no idea what you're talking about. . ." The redhead replied coldly, "If you haven't been paying attention to a thing that's taken place or that's been said, then allow me to repeat myself because I'm just that patient at the moment," and, stone-faced, she went on to say, "I was sent here to relieve you of this. . . worthless. . . duty forty-three minutes ago after completing my mission and handing the report in to my father. If you haven't forgotten, aforementioned parental figure is also the sole leader of this entire organization, and you know what that means. He owns you, your Pokemon, your future, your life in a whole."

May could tell that Misty's words were affecting the Rocket guard by the way he went rigid and silent, except for his overly-conscious breathing exercises.

"Now, do you want me to blemish your already less than perfect record by informing him that you were sleeping on duty? I can guarantee you that you won't look better in his or any disciplinary committee's eyes, but if you'd like to test the theory. . ." And she turned on her heel and made her way towards the door. His next shout, therefore, brought a very subtle glint of victory to her eyes.

". . . No!" He wasn't very quick on the uptake. All he could recognize was that he had followed a certain order given to him by the highest of sources, but not only had that order been interrupted, he had ended up unconscious and useless for over an hour. And there was no way anyone in the organization would tolerate that. Now the only people who seemed to know of his discrepancy were May (one of his prisoners and, so forth, someone whose opinion didn't matter) and Misty (the very daughter of his ever-powerful employer). It was her word that was the most threat, he was positive, and so, ". . . You speak of this to no one. . ." He muttered, stepping forward.

"You mean to threaten me." Misty spoke softly so that the reply was halfway between a murmur and a common tone. "You know you have no right, and no ability. I am above you. . . but I can hold my breath as long as you leave now and act just as you're saying I should; never speak of anything that's happened tonight again."

The guard muttered something and Misty was positive she'd heard the words, ". . . evil little pet," in there somewhere. Instead of huffing and puffing and, well, basically taking the comment personally, she allowed for a simpler move. The beginnings of a threat. And this meant that she'd removed a small device from the holster in her belt and begun speaking into it.

"This is Agent former D - 142, now EE – 09." The guard seemed apprehensive by this opening statement alone, seeing as he'd never heard of such a squad before, "I need to speak with my father about a certain member B – 136." She finished, after a quick glance at the man's uniform, where the numbers were emblazoned upon his left breast.

". . . Er, now, now; there's no need for that, is there? I mean, really. . ." The man, now looking half furious and half panicked, decided to take the cautious route for fear of his career. "I – I won't mention the mere possibility of your being here, or any. . . possibly negatively regarded action against our organization! Just don't report me. . . !"

Misty's hand released itself from the speaker button.

"Very well," she sighed courteously, placing the communications device on her belt, "but I suggest you leave now so I can take my post." And the guard did.

May was staring as the man exited, and staring still as Misty took her seat at that desk without a word or a glance. And, yes, she continued to stare for the next several minutes, making the older redhead very anxious. May wasn't making inquiries, but there was no question that the Hoenn native had taken notice of the violet stains on her uniform, gloves, and even the flecks and smears tainting her skin.

". . . What happened?" She asked finally, and Misty had to admit, she was still trying to figure that out. She had been there, sure. . . but now it seemed, as she looked back on it, that she had played straight into Giovanni's hand; that man who would call himself her father. He'd had that Pokemon skulking in the darkness, waiting for her. And that monster, that most likely brutalized and tainted beast was rich in offense – again, which Giovanni knew – so she'd have had to choose a Pokemon with an equal defense. . .

Gyarados was too big. . .

Psyduck was either unreliable or. . . simply terrifying.

Staryu and Starmie weren't strong enough, she was sure. . .

He'd pushed her to that on-the-spot solution, and she'd still ended up losing.

"If I told you I was a murderer, how much less would you think of me?" She asked it so plainly, with so little emotion, that May had to gulp.

Several cell-frames down the lot, Ash blinked, coming to. He was pretty sure he'd just heard Misty asking May about a killing she'd done. He didn't want to hear this, he obviously wasn't supposed to, because the two girls were talking in such low tones, but – unfortunately – there carried an echo against the underground stone walls. It was an unavoidable thing.

On the other hand, part of him did want to hear this. He didn't want to hear it alone, but – somehow – he knew that calling out to Brock to see if he was awake, too, seemed a bit obvious. He didn't want any actions on his own part to carry down to the other end where the girls were talking.

He didn't want Misty to know he still cared for anything to do with her. . . even if it was something that had made her miserable.

"Just. . .tell me. . . w – what happened. . . ?" At the front of the cell block, May was quaking in her shoes, and she didn't want to know the answer. But she did! And Misty didn't want to tell her. . . but she did!

"My father planned your attack tonight." Misty said and, by the look on her face, May didn't take too kindly to the news. "I didn't know anything about his interference until I went to talk to him about it a – and I only went to talk to him about it because. . . because this was supposed to be the safest place for you guys without you going into hiding for who knows how long."

May's expression turned understandably incredulous.

"I – I guess I still don't get it. . . First, what makes this place so safe? And. . . it sounds like you have more to do with this than we're aware of." The younger girl nodded to her surroundings, waiting for Misty's reply.

"D – do you know how long my dad has wanted Ash dead and gone? It's because he's always been such a hindrance; he's always been in the way of Team Rocket's road to evolution. When he finally found me and brought me here. . . he had every intention of _offing_ all of you." The statement was really quite blunt.

"But he didn't. . ." May continued. "Why? He's had plenty of chances."

Ash admitted from his place in the back, it was true. Especially ever since they'd been brought here against their will. . . by Misty. It was almost disappointing, actually; was this just another thing to blame her for. . . ?

"He wanted me to join up with him, and his organization so he set up a deal with me. If I could learn to rely on nobody but me, he would let you all live. . . live _here_, yeah, but you'd still be alive. I wasn't sure what I could do to make that happen until he told me that I'd be the one to bring you to him. He told me to - and I agreed to it as the first and most convenient solution - make you all hate me. That way even if I felt that I needed you, you wouldn't be willing.

"It worked, too, in such a simple way. When you guys found out that I broke your bond with me and brought you here and took your Pokemon from you. . . when you found out that I manipulated you so that I could steal your lives away from you. . . you all hated me." May opened her mouth to object. "Even you, if only just a little. . ."

The younger of the two young women bowed her head at that, her bangs sheltering her eyes from divulging any negative reflection. Misty didn't want to look forward to this either, but it seemed not to matter. She had to face it.

". . . But you're wrong. . . I - I mean. . . people always call me naive because I trust too easily, but I couldn't ever help it. It's just who I am to believe so honestly in the good of those I've met. Brock's a bit crazy, maybe, but he's wise about certain things, and I think this is one of them. And Ash. . ."

Ash, himself, who was indeed still listening, glared hard at the wall in front of him to keep himself focused on not interrupting the conversation. . . but he definitely didn't like where this was going.

"That's flattering, May, really; but still. . ."

"-- And Ash! He still cares about you the most!" May half-yelled, desperately trying to convince the redhead of it. "Why else do you think he'd be holding such a grudge against you?" And Ash noticed Misty's silence following this statement, having never been more furious at May's constant for being one-hundred percent honest, ". . . He - you were his best friend for so long, and you've always meant the absolute most to him. It hurts him so much to know what you're doing and who you're turning into, but. . . I think what hurts him most is when you were taken away from him this time; kidnapped with barely any chance of ever seeing you again. At least now you periodically visit and he knows you're still okay."

Ash was seething. It wasn't fair that all of these secrets were being divulged against his will, not to mention to someone who wouldn't care either way.

However, that was Ash's mistake. He had the misfortune of thinking that Misty no longer cared - about anything. In fact, he obviously couldn't have been more wrong. After all, when May's speech was over, Misty couldn't help the old, flustered feeling that enveloped her chest. She didn't like the way she currently was; she never had. It had been probably the only form of grace and salvation in this whole situation. What made it worse was that she hadn't felt it in so long, so it was horribly overwhelming.

Nevertheless, she got over it, and she looked up at May again, who had been waiting patiently for a reply.

"I. . . won't. Don't worry, May." Misty was smiling for the first time in months. "I won't be leaving you guys behind anymore. I'm sorry for it all; I thought it was the right thing to do. And now all I want is to make it better - just a little bit. So I'm going to get you out of here."

Ash heard this, and he rejoiced inside. He'd gone months without seeing Pikachu, without contacting his mother or Professor Oak. Surely, someone was worried. If Officer Jenny was working on the case, everyone would have probably already tracked his final location to Viridian Forest. . . and there, they would have undoubtedly come to a dead end.

But why did it seem like he was forgetting something - someone - he would ordinarily be worried about. . . ?

"But. . . what about you?" He heard May ask, her question echoing down the hall. And it hit him. Hard. He'd forgotten about Misty. Worst of all, he didn't feel very guilty about it. Not yet anyway.

"Don't be worried for me. I know how to do this." Misty stated then pulled up the seat from behind the guards' station, allowing she and May to continue their discussion in hushed tones. Unfortunately, Ash couldn't hear anything anymore, which was a shame because he'd really started to get interested in it all.

It was over an hour later when Ash (who had been getting more and more drowsy over the past twenty or so minutes) heard the wail of a creaking old chair being placed into its original position.

"You're getting tired. We'll stop for now so you can get some sleep." Misty said, "The next watch will be coming soon, anyway." She was standing before May, retreating behind the desk so that anyone who ventured into their hollow wouldn't suspect the personal conversation going on between them just before.

"Okay, but. . . promise me, Misty." It was a startling statement for the younger girl to make, and slightly confusing, so Misty waited for an elaboration. "Just promise that you'll. . . be back again." It looked as though she was resolved to stay awake until she got what she wanted.

"You know it, May." The returned grin was one of confidence and lacked any faults in its honesty. "I won't abandon you again. You'll see me soon." May returned the smile with an extra ounce of gratitude.

Twenty minutes later and her breathing was average and rhythmic. Misty sat on the desk, contemplating her almost two hour long discussion with May. Even now, when she herself was tired, Misty didn't stop thinking. She wasn't allowed to when there was so much to plan for.

Ash feigned sleep, unable to help his wonders on what Misty's motives were. She couldn't just remove herself from what she'd become and return to their side like she was; at least he didn't think she could. It wasn't something he accepted from her right now.

He blinked his eyes open when he heard Brock's voice whispering through the wall.

"You heard all of that, right?"

Ash didn't want to reply, he didn't want to risk being heard. But before he could stop himself, his voice automatically responded. "Yeah."

". . . So what do you think?"

"What do you mean, what do I think?"

"Ash, May was right, wasn't she? Misty's a good person. Why else would she save May's life and then betray her father?"

"Because she wants to trick us into willingly giving up our lives." Ash commented snidely. "She wouldn't be able to gain much else from this, right?"

"Ash. . ." Brock's tone was beaten, as he sighed from behind the wall. The raven-haired boy thought he'd given up until. . . "You know, Misty still loves you."

Ash choked on air; that had been such an awkward statement to hear, let alone digest. But after he had considered it, he found something to retaliate with.

"She never loved me, Brock, honestly. I can say right now that she never loved anyone but herself."

"She's always loved her Pokemon. She's always acted like a mother towards them. They're completely loyal to her - even now - because of it."

"Pokemon are faithful but that doesn't mean that they're geniuses in their own right. Even they can be fooled sometimes--" Ash continued, though he didn't seem to feel like specifying what he meant.

"She loves Daisy, Lily, and Violet. She told them to keep away from the Gym for their own safety; she even sent them money to take care of all starting expenses."

"Or so she's said."

"What the hell makes it so hard for you to believe that your best friend still has a conscience?" Brock whispered fiercely, "She cares about you, me, and obviously May - considering the fact that she saved her life just earlier tonight!"

Ash could have said something about that (as he'd done awhile ago); actually, he could have said a lot of things, like the fact that Misty's heroic act, soon followed by her confessions, seemed highly convenient.

"Do you remember those times you got stuck working with Jessie, James, and Meowth?" Brock asked quite suddenly. Ash nodded mutely before remembering that Brock couldn't see him.

"Yeah, I do."

"And how many times has that happened? How many times have you actually grown to trust Team Rocket, even though they're supposedly your worst enemies?"

Oh, there it was. The ever-valid point.

"I wouldn't call them the worst, I mean, don't you remember how it actually was with them?" There was a wry grin on his face as he thought of how it used to be.

"Fine; but they're at least the most persistent, and you and they probably have no common beliefs, do you?" Brock waited a moment before he realized Ash wasn't answering him which meant one of two things. Either he'd fallen asleep (which Brock doubted even if Ash was a log) or he'd realized where Brock was going with this. "Misty can't be so different. She's put you in a difficult position and forced you to act a certain way. I can see the different levels of trust she has from you compared to Team Rocket but you can't say even now, when everything's clear, that you have the whole story. Or have you not seen that the only times she's even slightly cruel to you are when some Rocket member is around or when she's trying to see _if _another Rocket is around and, either way, she's not looked into anyone's eyes since she brought us here.

"She doesn't believe in what she's doing to you."

Ash raised an eyebrow but still refused to talk. Brock made it sound a bit like Misty had stolen some money or played a horrible prank or had reminded him twelve times in less than an hour of just how dense he was. It wasn't like she'd destroyed all trust he had in her; kidnapped him, his other friends, and his Pokemon; locked them all in a dungeon with no sunshine; and acted as though the very losses of their lives would make her day.

He was finally going to grace Brock with a few words when he heard the screech of a chair and an exasperated sigh. He knew Misty'd stood up; he supposed to get a breath of fresh air and a good stretch, but next moment, he heard her footsteps. Surprisingly, too, they were heading in his direction - or, well - at least the direction of the end of the block.

Not wanting to face her or even acknowledge her in any way, he huddled quickly, silently, onto his pitiful excuse for a mattress and stared at the wall just in time for the footsteps to stop and a silhouette to fall over his barely existent source of light.

There was a grunt. Perhaps Misty was trying to see if he'd react to it, but he ignored her, keeping his breathing pattern as rhythmic as possible while trying so hard. It didn't stop her from speaking, though. In fact, his being asleep and non-responsive might have been what she wanted. It was this contemplation that left Ash waiting with almost bated breath for what she had to say.

"I'm sorry, Ash. I did this to you. I made you turn loathsome, something no one would have expected of you - least of all those who know you best. You always gave me what I needed; no matter what. I had wanted to do that for you, too, someday. . . but this mistake. It's something I've got to undo. I will." She was silent for a few moments, as though she still had something to say, but wasn't really sure how to, or if she really wanted it. But then, turning on her heel to head back to her desk, she came to her decision.

"I will save you." It was as though she was swearing her life on it, but Ash knew she couldn't be planning to act so irrationally. She'd already saved his life so many times, and always without putting herself in much danger. There was no way she'd be offering to rescue him now without any regards towards the situation she knew the most about.

Misty walked away again knowing that, awake or not, she would not be getting a reaction from Ash about anything, let alone her declaration. As she marched back towards the front of the cell block, Ash thought, for the first time in months, that he might call out to her, but he held back. He knew that, if that were the case, if he were to feel like reaching out to her now, it would mean that his grudge against her would be broken. No matter how close the two of them had been up until almost a year ago, it would not be worth the sacrifice he'd be making now if he forgave her, only to be left abandoned and broken-souled later.

Ash would admit, even now, that he had loved her dearly. And it was no misinterpretive "just friends" love, or a petty "puppy" love. No; he had grown to know Misty, his best friend, inside and out - he had grown to know everything about her (besides the fact that her mom was an ex-Rocket, then she had seen her mother's murder because the woman had been an ex-Rocket, and there was also the fact that Misty was not her real name to begin with). Ash liked to think that, even through not knowing all of that, he'd gotten to know the girl pretty well. He liked to think that, though she had dealt with so much, he had come to know the person - (the woman) - that Misty would have become had she had a normal childhood.

Because Ash was pretty sure everything he'd learned of and from her had actually been of and from her.

It was because of all of that, that he'd loved her. It was because he looked at her everyday during the years and listened to all she said to him that he saw and heard something beautiful in the end, something he loved.

Of course, he denied it now - not unlike whenever she was around him. It was a bit different, though; he did it now simply because - with her new emotional pattern - he was almost sure that a declaration of love would make her laugh.

No matter who it came from.

No matter how honest it was.

Ash curled into himself a little more, not wanting to think about it anymore. Misty couldn't care less about him, about anyone, and to tell her that someone cared about _her_. . . What could he expect her to say or do? It was hard to think realistically about her reaction. As Ash considered this, he came to terms with something else; May was naive to believe in Misty - someone she didn't know so well anyway - after everything that had happened. Ash was very proud of himself overall, knowing that he'd outgrown that same emotion years ago.

But Brock - he seemed to be recessing. Ash had thought that the older trainer had already come to his conclusion about everything - in fact, that his conclusion had been similar, if not completely exact - to his own. Now Brock seemed to be thinking differently, as though the situation had changed at all. And considering the fact that he had always been the smart one of the group. . .

. . . Had Ash missed something?

OoO

Jessie watched James as he stumbled across the room, his knuckles white as he gripped his walker to keep on his feet. At the time, he was partaking in physical therapy after surgery a few months ago to regraph the skin on his back. Even then, it was unbearable for Jessie to think that James - her partner and her (sometimes overwhelming) friend - would never be able to move the same as before the incident.

James was looking at her and Meowth now, something like in need of their approval of his hard work, so she smiled at him falsely. She truly did think he was doing well, but she couldn't help the other thoughts on her mind.

Those twerps; that stupid overly-heroic Ash Ketchum and his stupidly and overly-heroic best friends. This was their entire fault, their fault that she'd lost one of the very few things she'd always had to support her, not to mention how they almost stole away James' life -- all for the sake of their stupid twerpette of a friend.

It wasn't worth it in Jessie's opinion. After all, that redhead had ended up turning them _all _in to Giovanni and none of them had gotten away unscathed - not even the main twerp, who the redhead was supposedly head-over-heels in love with. Jessie had always known that their sexual tension would be their undoing.

Even so, now she was without a home, Meowth was without a dream for the "Top Cat" position, and James. . . well, his loss seemed rather obvious. What was worst was within the next two months his physical therapy would be over and they'd be in real trouble since they'd be thrown out of the Rocket HQ. True, James did have a huge manor to run back to, but he also had a clinically-proven insane ex-fiancée, and Jessie had grown to be someone who wouldn't wish that fate on anybody.

Except for maybe the twerps who'd done this to them all.

Maybe she was a bit vindictive, but she just couldn't seem to ignore it. She had never felt so useless. No matter what the situation, she'd never been good at just sitting there and taking everything in stride. She liked having control of everything, it made her feel strong and independent. . . but this time her words stood alone with no meaning and no ability to change things.

She'd always known that Giovanni's rule would outdo anything she could come up with, but she'd never thought his rule would be to disband her team and to throw them out onto the streets. But it was even more disbelieving to think that he was paying personally for all of their medical bills until then. She supposed it was because some of their wounds and / or illnesses would be a little hard to explain under normal circumstances.

James was limping back across the room and Jessie's thoughts returned to him as their eyes met in reassurance. His recovery was a slow one; possibly too slow. She had a feeling that he was maybe doing it for her and Meowth, faking it so that they had more time to process the situation in all of its seriousness. And she was grateful for it, although she wondered how long he could make it last before Giovanni and his private physicians got suspicious.

James got a drink of water from the fountain and his therapist walked over to him and whispered in his ear before turning and gathering her things and walking out of the room. Then Jessie's partner walked over to her and waited for her to get to her feet.

"So, how does she think you're doing?" Jessie asked cautiously, hoping not to belay the course of her previous thoughts.

"Well, given the stress. . ." James replied with a grunt as he twisted the wrong way on his crutches.

"Yea, at least that's not my fault for once." She joked poorly as they walked towards the Mess Hall to join up with Meowth, who'd left ahead of them about ten minutes before to reserve a table. "And you're practicing outside for your sessions?"

"Of course!" James stated indignantly, but lowered his voice at the last moment. He had forgotten she never seemed to be around during their leisurely hours. The only times James saw his partner were at mealtimes, at night in their dormitory (and only in time for bed), and during instances like the one that had just passed. Strangely enough, she never seemed to miss his therapy sessions.

He'd been wanting to know forever what exactly she was doing with her time. After all, while she still wore the uniform, there was no way she would have the chance to go on anymore missions. He supposed she was out somewhere, using some of their hundreds of disguises to try and help all of them (including Meowth) to apply for room and board, not to mention new jobs. It was a time - consuming thing to do, but it had to be done.

James, the more rounded robin of the team, couldn't help the next series of thoughts that ran through his mind. It was true that the twerps had shared bad blood with him and Jessie and Giovanni and Team Rocket in a whole, but they had always had a reason for what they did. James could still remember the times Team Rocket had been stuck working with those kids, and forgive him for saying that - honestly - he believed that those few times (so far in between) were some of the best he'd had while employed under Giovanni.

It wasn't that he liked the heroism tactics used by their enemies, or that he wanted to implement them into his daily life. But it was definitely something he appreciated - winning, for a change.

"What do you want to do?" Jessie asked quite suddenly as the two of them made it through the double-doors into the Mess Hall.

"What do you mean?" He replied.

"I mean that it's been years, literally, since we had to live natural, non-incriminating lives; all ploys used to steal Pokemon aside. It's going to be something, returning to that lifestyle," was the explanation.

"Oh." So she planned on just. . . going, then? No looking back, crossing her fingers, taking advantage of the revenge ideal? It was almost too unlike her. And to leave those stupid kids (as annoying and heroic as they were). . . He had to wonder what her incentive was, because she normally wasn't so unbelievably cold-blooded as she was now.

"What about --?"

"-- They don't deserve anything; not from us!" Jessie snarled, her fury from earlier fully renewed, "They got themselves into this and dragged us into it, too! Now look what's happened to everyone!"

"Yeah, I know. . . You probably hate them for causing you to lose any future you might have had with Team Rocket. Those twerps stand for everything you don't and it annoys the hell out of you. You wish they would just be reasonable and finally see all the greed and corruption of the world - all the crap you've been dragged into, yourself. But you know they'd apologize to you forever if they could, because they're the good guys; and you have to know. . . they've probably been worrying for us just as much as you _haven't _been worrying for them."

Jessie's mouth was already open to retaliate to whatever argument James had planned on using against her, but after deciphering what that argument was, she realized she had nothing to say to that in particular.

"Yeah, but just think about what they did to us - to you and Meowth, more importantly! They've screwed us over with their do-good ways and gotten us removed from our one and only place of acceptance! Meowth's tail was almost ripped off and you - you can barely walk because of what they did!" Jessie huffed uncontrollably, crossing her arms and ignoring the perplexed expressions of some of her ex-coworkers.

"I'm touched that you're holding such a grudge in my honor, Jess; really. But, to be fair, I've faced just as much. . . hm. . . discomfort between you and Meowth, I'm sure."

"_We _never left you practically unable to walk!"

"Are you sure? Because I distinctly remember --"

"-- Well we never put you in rehab, and that's a fact!" Jessie concluded in a tone that said the discussion was completely over. She picked up the tray given to her from behind the counter, filled a plate with greens and reduced-fat dressing, and walked past the verification slide next to the back door where Rocket members were supposed to place their I.D. cards for lunch. Of course, Jessie couldn't anymore because she wasn't a member, but the one time someone had come up to her to say something about it, she had threatened to gun them down. They hadn't been seen since then.

"Yeah, but you make it sound like they did it on purpose!" James exclaimed, stalking behind her with nothing to eat (it was pretty hard to carry a tray and walk on crutches at the same time).

"How do you know they didn't?" She shrieked as they approached the table that Meowth was already sitting at. She dumped her tray and Meowth, recognizing her temper, looked at James expectantly.

"What'd ya do d'is time, Jimmy?" He asked, irritable because Jessie was irritable.

"I disagreed with her. She wants me to believe that the twerps did this to us on purpose and, because of that, we should leave them to rot."

"And ya don't think we should?" Meowth asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I think they've had plenty of reasons to after all we've tried to pull over the years, but their goody-goody complexes have kept them from retaliating beyond a _Thundershock_." James said, inching into a comfortable position on a far too uncomfortable bench. It was something that Jessie had been helping him with day to day but she seemed too annoyed to notice now. "Do you think that if they really wanted us dead and out of the way, they would have tried so hard to get Meowth out of that blimp? And me. . . that main twerp could have left me there. I was in no position to argue. He helped me out of that engine room anyway.

"And, Jessie. . . I know you pretty wall despite what you may think. You wouldn't have stayed with that girl-obsessed one if you didn't trust him at all; if you didn't think he was even a little bit in the right."

His partners stared at him, possibly because they'd never heard him talk the way he had just now. James felt suddenly sheepish, apprehensive, at the stares he was getting. Jessie still seemed overcome with hate and fury for their archrivals, though, as though his words hadn't reached her at all. And then she sighed.

"It was a nice dream, anyway." She admitted, changing the topic as the expression on her face melted away into a more relaxed, sober one. "I wanted so much more for myself. I saw myself outgrowing this bad luck streak and moving up to executive levels. I saw myself bossing people around and my subordinates following my direction simply because I was their superior and they trusted that judgment. I saw myself living lavishly, in a huge compound with great clothes and a reputation for getting things done - and getting them done right."

"D'at lifestyle sounds nice. Ya planned on sharin' it with us, right?" Meowth asked jokingly, not expecting much.

"Well, you could always be my professional translator, and James wouldn't be that bad of a butler, I'm sure." She noticed her partner giving her a look and shrugged with a smile, "What? You hated the ritzy life anyway, right? So wouldn't you want to see it from the other side of the window?"

James didn't disagree with her about loathing his wealthy youth, but he knew for a fact that being her butler. . . well, it wouldn't be a walk in the park. It wouldn't even be able to pass for a walk in the barren desert with no supplies. Even so, Jessie seemed a lot more tolerant of their position now than she'd been for the past few months. . .

"But that was just a dream, right? No matter how hard I try - how much dedication I place - I'm never going to get what I want in life." She happened to say just then with a lingering sigh, "And just who is there to blame for all of this?"

It was at that moment that Misty walked through the door.

OoO

"The thing is. . . before we go, we're going to have to stage some time beforehand to run to the holding district and steal your Pokemon back. You wouldn't leave without them I'm sure." May nodded, off-handedly considering Ash's reaction to just such an idea. "Unfortunately, I have no idea where that is. I'm always out on missions, and any Pokemon I bring go to the Center branch here before being taken to the lab for experimentations." Misty shrugged disappointedly at herself.

"So, you're saying we need something, something --"

"-- More like someone; they need to have a reason to help us, and they have to have been here for a good few years. Plus they have to be able to get around without raising any suspicion. I don't think I could pull it off myself if I was alone. After what happened to Corsola, I'd bet anything my father would be expecting some sort of retaliation from me."

"But who do you expect to be able to trust in Team Rocket?" May asked, quirking an eyebrow skeptically.

"Maybe that's not the question you need to be asking. Ask not who we can trust, but who would have reason to help us now. . . Someone who has nothing left to lose. . ."

"You mean. . . Jessie, James, and Meowth. . . ? Misty, I thought you were crazy for _joining _Team Rocket; don't tell me you're crazy enough to trust them, too!" May exclaimed, shocked at the possibilities.

"I'm not saying we have to trust them; we just have to. . . depend on them a little, like you depended on Ash to show you the ropes of Pokemon training. They may not want to help us after what's happened but if battling them repeatedly over the years has taught me anything about them - Jessie and Meowth, especially - then I know for a fact that they'll love to go out with a bang."

May thought about it for a moment. Sure, the Team Rocket she'd grown to know so well were not also those she may have grown to appreciate, but in the end, they couldn't honestly be classified as "evil." Assuming they were at their worst, they would probably only qualify as an annoyance, and a mild setback. And it wasn't like she'd never worked with them before. . .

"Fine, okay; I'm not really in a position to decline, am I?" She just had to look at it all in a way that convinced her that she and her friends were helping _them_.

"But, wait. . . Misty, what about your mom? The only reason you've gone through all this secrecy is so that you can get Giovanni back for what he did. . . and since now he's got Corsola a - and that bullet-thing," there was a shudder at the thought of what Misty had told her of the events leading up to the particular Pokemon's death, ". . . don't you basically have to start from the beginning?"

Misty didn't know how to respond. The consideration that her friends now were more important than her blood mother had been; it came all at once and had swept her away into a typhoon and she couldn't breath for the life of her because she kept thinking she would bust into flames out of sin. She didn't want to say the wrong thing or in the wrong way because she figured at that possibility. . . She would lose all she had gained back over the course of her friendship with May. Ash didn't trust her, Brock didn't trust what he might say around her (everything seemed inappropriate, really). May was it, the one thing that tied her to those people.

"Yea, I guess I will." She found it hard to believe that, less than a year ago, she had been just so determined to dash forward without much thought to try and destroy Giovanni for all it was worth. And to drag her friends into it, too. . . Now it seemed like they were too priceless for that, "But that's okay. It was my mom's dream to take down Team Rocket because of their injustice towards her. I'm not even sure if it was a selfless theory. She just wanted to abolish the man who'd abolished her. And I. . . I only followed through with it because it was her dying wish."

"But. . ." May exclaimed in a shocked tone, ". . . I thought it was because they killed her."

"No. . . I don't know; maybe on some level. But it's like Jessie and James stealing people's Pokemon. We would help Officer Jenny if we could but all of that legal garbage? We'd leave that up to her. I know this is obviously sort of different but. . . I probably would have been okay to a degree just taking the case to court. Team Rocket left behind some evidence - I'm sure - and I know I could have served as a great eye-witness. And with no statute of limitations on murder, I could have still done this up to a month or so ago."

"But what's wrong with now?" May replied questioningly, "I mean, what's stopping you?"

"Giovanni has everything where he wants it. He has the disc my mom left for me, the EAB, and - while you're all here - he has me ready at his disposal. That's one main reason I want to get you out of here. That way he can't control me anymore. Maybe after that. . . maybe I can do this the right way; rewind and replay.

"Right now, you guys are. . . more important to me than anything else. Your safety is the one thing binding me here, but that's okay because everything that's happened to you has been my fault so I owe it to you to set you all free, whatever the risk. That's why it's okay to move on despite how good a person my mother may or may not have been. She joined Team Rocket willingly and left willingly, she befriended the Waterflowers and died for her cause. But I know that she would have wanted me to do this for you guys no matter her expectations for me on the day she died."

There was a vast, blinding silence following this statement. May felt like she hadn't grasped any of what Misty had said to her. She supposed her question had been answered but it wasn't in a way she had expected.

"So. . . you want to go through with this whether or not your mother would have really wanted it, but you would have hoped for her blessing?"

Misty wasn't entirely sure how May would interpret the things she said; quite honestly, _she _didn't even know what everything she felt literally meant. But when she heard that comment, she didn't think it wrong or inappropriate. It probably came from a life growing up and never receiving praise or question or anything from a mother she couldn't remember at all, but blessings were something she could relate to wanting because of it.

It was a very bittersweet grin that graced her features, looking disheveled and somewhat gruesome the way she was half-forcing it, as she replied.

"Maybe so." The auburn-haired girl blinked and sighed exasperatedly, the same kind of smile crossing her face as well. She didn't think she knew how to appreciate such a feat, a sacrifice, as throwing away your only main goal in life for other people. Given, she would have gladly given up being a Coordinator if her family's lives' were at stake, but. . . other than that. . . she just didn't know what to say.

"I'm sure it means something to them, too; like it does for me."

"Hn." Misty didn't want to dwell on the turn of their conversation, so she steered it back on track and continued as though nothing had just taken place. "We'll have to work hard on this plan and set it up over the course of the rest of the month. Jessie and James are being thrown out in about five weeks. James is continuing to fake a slow recovery and take advantage of the physical therapy in all of its nature, but he can only fool everyone for so long. They _are _professionals."

It was something you lost track of - time - when you spent all of your days underground without so much as a calendar; let alone a window to keep track of when day and night were exchanged.

"How long is that, though?"

"About two weeks."

"Two weeks, huh. . . Wait; t - two weeks?" She blinked again. Surely Misty was joking. She wanted a life-threatening escape plan without any flaws created in two weeks? How much sense did that actually make? "How do you think we should pull this off?"

"I don't know, but it's going to have to be done. We need to spend all of the time we've got thinking on this and, when possible, we're going to have to pull Ash and Brock into it, too. We can't just wake them up one night and expect them to know everything that's been going on."

". . . Oh, yes you can. . . !" Came a distant shout from the back of the cell block, and Misty couldn't help but think it interesting. Brock obviously had _no _tact whatsoever when admitting to eavesdropping on them.

"Right; never mind what I said." She waved her hand distractedly, "Look, most of this is on me anyway. I'm going to be spending all time that I'm not here out in the halls scouting the security levels and picking out the best time to plan this for.

"And if there's one thing you can depend on Jessie and James for, it's their ability to sneak around on private property. Because of that, I'm leaving gathering the floor plans to them. They'll leave less of a trail overall. Giovanni wouldn't suspect them off the top of his head to team up with the dimwits that got them thrown out of the organization, so--"

"--Is it wrong that I take great offense to that 'dimwit' comment?"

"--Their words, not mine." Misty sighed, but still couldn't help a more amused smile this time around. "They still hold it against all of us for what's happened to them, but they'll help if only to piss off Giovanni for throwing them out. . . Did you guys happen to hear that, back there?" She picked up her voice towards the end so that it carried easier towards the small blocked-off areas where Brock and Ash had been living out their months of life.

"Yep. Carry on." As suspected, only Brock graced her with an answer. She didn't show that it bothered her, not by expression anyway.

"Like I was saying, they'll be sneaking around for the floor plans and looking into all labs and holding areas for your Pokemon. They're going to let me know when they've found something. James' therapy is actually going pretty well, so we don't have to worry about him as a liability when we _all _make our way out of here."

"Well, then that just leaves you and Ash."

The statement was very short-winded and Misty wasn't sure if she'd actually heard it at first, or if she'd just imagined it.

". . . Huh?"

"Misty, think about it. Ash - no matter what I say and how honest I am about it - won't admit to agreeing with this plan. He won't say that he trusts your judgment yet, even though I'm sure he does - though he's probably listening in right now. . . !" May, too, allowed her voice to echo along the walls so that it was very easy to hear what was being said in the back, "Because of that, he might not even agree to go through with it. Maybe you've never noticed even with all the time you've traveled with him, but he's got a lot of pride. And he takes your running off to Team Rocket to heart, which makes it even harder for him to be sure you're not going to lead us into a deathtrap, even if his head or heart are saying otherwise about you."

"No, no; I'm used to that. He never listened to any of my advice when he started out. . ." Misty sulked for a moment, her head bowed, before looking up into May's eyes again. "It's all the more reason for you to go to bed. So. . . goodnight! Shoo!" She waved her hands at the younger girl, who obviously couldn't understand it at all as it showed clearly on her face. "I'm going to try. . . talking. . . to him, but I want it to just be us."

"What about Brock?"

"If he tries listening in, I'll rip off his ears. He knows I'll go through with it, too; I've always come pretty close when I pulled him away from the girls."

That was it between the two friends. May, on the ground already, tucked her legs together and crawled backwards towards the small cot at the wall, pulling up her weight onto the mattress, and Misty returned her chair to the spot behind the desk on the opposite wall in a loud fashion due to the squeaking.

Her heels clicked against the stone flagged floor as she walked towards Ash's cell, even though she was trying her hardest not to make any noise. And when she reached the barred entrance, she simply stood there, waiting for him to say or do something. She'd made the first step by approaching him - and on more than one occasion. Now it was up to him.

Even so, the wait he was putting her through - she decided almost ten minutes later - did nothing to ebb away at her impatient persona.

". . . Ash!" She finally cracked, both hands fisted around the steel bars blocking them from each other.

"You know, I heard that."

"What?"

"That comment about never taking your advice. Thanks a lot; means a lot to know how much of a dope you've always thought of me as." Ash spoke to her for the first time in months, and it was in a monotone that stated through the hurt that he somehow didn't seem to care.

"I'm sure you've got plenty of awful things to say about me - too - though, don't you? Don't bother lying, either; you were never very good at it. I'm not here to necessarily make you feel better, or ask you to forgive me. You'll never have to worry about it if you don't want to. I'm just here to say. . . that what I'm doing, I'm doing to help you - not hinder you. You can keep thinking of me whatever way you want to, but don't let it stop you from taking a stand in trying to save yourself, and Pikachu." She mocked his tone the best she could, sounding equally as careless. She needed to sound like she just wanted to do something for _him_, and not so that she could get something out of it, too. "So tell me that you're going to come with us on the night of the escape."

"Why should I?"

"You need to look at it differently, even if all you think is I'm going to try and kill you. Either way, you're dead, unless I'm really trying to help you. You can stay here and rot slowly, or come with me. Think of it as me trying to lure you into a quiet little hole where I can kill you personally, and you're still dead. There's the third option, though; follow me and don't think anything - have no expectations - and you never know. You might just get out of here alive and try to be on your merry way with your life. And you'll have Pikachu back."

"I guess so, but I'm not the type to not think during something so serious." Maybe he was trying to trick her into walking into that, just so that she could say something like she used to. Maybe it was his way of saying he couldn't go through with that type of thing and not trust her - not forgive her. . . Maybe. . .

But she didn't catch on to the bait.

"Do what you think, what you feel, is best. But the risk is the same, no matter how you look at it." She sighed again - probably the tenth time in just the past few hours - and stayed silent for a moment longer.

Out of curiosity, Ash turned over in his cot, throwing the moth-eaten blanket down from its original place covering his face and stared at her for the first time in almost a year. Neither one of them was smiling or thinking anything above mutual disinterest or anything of the sort. It still felt good, though, to look at each other the way they were, nonetheless. It was. . . relieving. So they just kept staring, drinking the other one in. The casualty of the moment sunk through their skin and even the disinterest vanished.

"What?" She asked, not necessarily uncomfortable, but still just as curious as he was when it came to this thing that was going on between them currently.

"You're wrong." It wasn't happening. It was another one of those dream-like hopes she often wished for, the only one anymore, where he would say what he was saying now. "Because of what you did, I can't trust you, but because of what you're doing now, I _can _forgive you. They're two different things, right? So you can earn them back at different times."

". . . It's. . ." She felt speechless with glee. He had done it. The one thing she had wanted, and he had done it. ". . . it's enough." She turned away from him, not wanting the moment to become anymore awkward than she felt it had started to and knowing that, despite her hopes that this was just between her and her best friend - _ex_-best friend; whatever - May and Brock were probably eavesdropping with all that they were.

"Oh, and Ash?" She glanced back and it seemed less uncomfortable this time around. "If anything, call me Misty. It's who I am. If nothing, then just. . . _don't_. . . refer to me as Aurora. I don't ever want you to."

Ash's mind deciphered it as the one thing that seemed to make the situation even more comprehendible.

OoO

Jessie and James were relaxing in their compound, but the relaxation was somehow heated with secrecy and tension. Curled up against one headboard and a bedside table were rolls of blueprints that they had talked Meowth into stealing via stealthy entrance through the ventilation system. Over the course of the past twelve days, the three of them - just as they had as a team before - had scoured over the images and mathematics set out on the pages, and they'd reported everything they thought was useful to Misty. They'd located five different holding areas for kidnapped Pokemon that weren't sent to be experimented on and had narrowed it all down to the two separate ones that carried the Pokemon settled between the three main Twerps.

Misty had taken advice from the three of them to personally scout the areas for security measures. How many guards at whatever time of the night? And the camera systems in their entirety, including the length in time between their movement between two opposite ends of the room.

It wasn't so horrible, and it wouldn't be during their predestined flee, as long as everyone knew how to be quiet and walk swiftly. One guard per entrance into those areas and three cameras in each room. She could deal with that.

Jessie and James offered to dismantle what they could, and had Meowth set it up so that he could cut down any wires that would allow complete access about the corridors, meaning everyone would be able to sneak by easier.

The main problems now were the guards. Misty couldn't very well walk past them in the dead of night, followed by the fugitive prisoners she - herself - had brought in so long ago, and then the bumbling ex-team that was no longer supposed to have such fine access. She could never pull that off.

As the time dwindled slowly away and the nightfall of their attempt at freedom approached, Misty snuck into the cell block where her friends were living and spent a few minutes telling them to fall asleep as early as possible; she would be back later that evening to pull them from their barricades, and the whole operation would go over a lot smoother if she didn't have to worry about them slipping up from exhaustion.

She had refused to see or speak to her father since the day he'd murdered Corsola, and for whatever reason, Giovanni hadn't said anything about this. He was starting a new operation in Hoenn - searching for some Legendary something-or-other - so she assumed he was busy with that.

To be sure, the evening the group of seven would be trying to get out of the Headquarters was the same night Giovanni was to take off to first-handedly oversee the start of that operation.

It left them a wide-open doorway to step through, and they took it.

Three o'clock, A.M., and Misty was reentering the block everyone was trapped in. Flanking behind her were Jessie, James, and Meowth; all of them were wearing a variation of the same starting expression. Jessie was apprehensive but smirking in a sense that she knew this would piss off her former boss. James was. . . terrified, really, but it seemed to mostly be from the hindering thought process he couldn't help, one that was telling him _he _would be the person to mess this up, especially since he wasn't completely recovered. Meowth had that same smirk as Jessie, but his tail kept twitching anxiously at the thought that around every corner lay the possibility of a new threat against them.

"H - hey, what are you doin' here? It's not time for the next shift yet, and - come ta think of it - it doesn't belong to you anyway!" The man behind the desk leapt up, grappling at his belt for something. Misty nodded inconspicuously and May, able to see from across the ten meter distance, watched as Meowth jumped at the man's face and distracted him with a _Scratch _attack. The cats claws gripped tightly at the back of the Rocket's head and Misty took the extra few seconds to run up next to him, pull her gun from her waist, and knock him upside the back of his neck with it. Meowth dropped to the floor - landing on his feet - and the man collapsed back into the chair, his head lolling uselessly to the side in his newly unconscious state.

Next, Misty turned to check for any signs that others would have been alerted to the scheme she had pulled together, but nothing occurred. After a few minutes' silence, she turned and removed the set of keys from the wall next to the door and swiftly approached May's cell door, tapping the key card against a small red light. It turned green and May, wide awake, jumped to her feet and exited her home of the last nine months.

Unable to contain her excitement (although she was trying as hard as possible), May threw her arms around the older girl and sobbed excitedly at the thought of her finally getting out of the rotted hole she'd been trapped in for so long. Misty smiled gently, glad that the Hoenn native had remained silent through her routine, and patted her on the back for the next minute or so before May removed herself. And then the younger girl turned to the three tag-alongs.

". . . Thanks - for your help. I figure you'd rather be doing a lot of entirely different things to us all right now, but. . . thanks, anyway, even if you're doing it for yourselves."

For the first time since Jessie had started considering her teams' situation and the damnation of all the twerps, she expressed something along the lines of shock. If nothing else, she hadn't expected this either.

". . . Huh. I - I mean, yeah; whatever you say, Twerpette."

All of them were left behind as Misty half-ran down the rest of the hall and halted in front of Ash's cell, slapping the card against the identification beam and throwing the door open. Ash, who had been feigning sleep that entire evening anyway - (anticipating the events currently taking place far too excitedly) - threw aside the blanket he had been sporting and sliding off of his rotted out mattress. As much as Misty would have liked to have a gratifiable moment with him, too, she couldn't dare to take anymore time for it, and so she ran off to Brock's bearings before Ash could even glance appreciatively at her. Apparently not thinking much on it anyway, her ex-but-maybe-not-so-ex best friend silently made his way up to the others.

"I knew you'd hit your head somewhere along the line and realize this isn't who you are." Brock commented with a slight grin, pleased to finally be let out and stretching his arms as far as he could. "His choice of words could have barely been more right last time," he ended in allusion, following the side-tracked Pokemon Master-to-be up to the front of the block.

Everyone had finally been congregated now, and Misty sighed in relief. Stage one was a success, then. It would have been horrible to be found out before even making their way into the first hallway beyond here. Walking as fast and quietly as possible, she dumped the keys back on the hook she'd removed them from and headed straight for the door, peaking out through the eyehole before steadily opening it up, wary of any screeching she might have to endure.

She glanced behind her at Jessie and James, who nodded. Everything had been timed and, luckily, not too much had been wasted during the first stage of their plan. The security would be rounding the corner in the direction they were all to be heading in within the next two minutes, but it gave them enough time to dash forward as coordinated as possible and slip into the next quadrant.

Knocking out the guard in the cell block had given them all at least thirty minutes head start, and she wanted to use every moment of it.

They approached a fork, a split in the path, and Misty held up her hand to signal them all to wait before stepping up the five meters to the nearest elevator that would take them where they needed to go next. She pressed her naked palm against the grid board and watched it turn a different hue before the door immediately slid open, revealing no one behind it. It was to be on the safe side that she'd asked them all to wait where they were; after all, Jessie and James had no reason being in this part of the compound, and the others would have been slain where they stood.

She crooked her finger again and beckoned them all towards her. The former villains entered the elevator first, followed by Brock and May; Ash came next and he seemed to be trying to catch her eye, but she purposely glued her sight to the corridor they'd all come from. That security tail would be coming around the corner any moment now and none of them could afford to be seen so she shoved the raven-haired boy the rest of the way after the others and rushed in, herself.

The door swung shut and took off automatically, slowly marking its way upward; after all, there was no lower floor than where they'd started from.

"Basement, second floor." She chanted and it seemed like the elevator's pace picked up with a new meaning. None of the occupants chose to speak the entire way. Somehow, even now, it seemed too risky.

They were running as on schedule as they could afford to be, and that was a good thing. However, the guards, on their own strict regimen, were running just as on time, and that was what made Misty think they were running late. Bounding the corners and rushing up the lanes became an adventure, a race against the forward progression of the world. She made sure that everyone was keeping up and silently issued checkpoints every two minutes or so when she would take the moment to ensure they were all behind her.

It was the end of the hall, and not for the first time, as they came upon a series of double doors. It was here that Misty stood still and stared and her friends stared at _her_.

"What is it? What's wrong? Why aren't we going in?" Brock asked and May closed her mouth, the same questions not reaching her lips fast enough.

"Where's that - that _thing_, from the elevator? Why isn't there one here?" Ash asked next, noticing something was missing.

"The hand printing ID pad is actually one of our smaller level security devices, used in mostly all open areas. Then there's the key card, used for the class and lunchrooms, and the training areas, but for this place. . . you need to complete a retina scan. Anyone can steal another member's ID, and the handprint scan can be easily fooled if you know what to do. . . your eyes, though, are your eyes. Everyone who enters this lab is logged in and because a lot of the Pokemon we st -- um, a lot of the Pokemon are kept here, there's a lot of modules used for retraining and comparative reformatting new registrations.

"May, your Pokemon are in here, too."

The youngest member of their group just didn't know what to think about it at all. She'd finally be able to see her friends again, those she had been training for years now, those she had been so close to up until the point when they'd been ripped away from her.

What would they be like now? Could she manage them if Team Rocket had found a way to sink their teeth into them? Would they listen to her in battle, decipher her as their trainer, or even recognize her in general? She wasn't sure she really wanted to know the answers to her own questions, but before she knew it, they were on the move again.

"Meowth, you're up. Be careful, but remember - we're on a time budget." Misty said. Meowth didn't seem to take her comment of concern to heart before he leapt flawlessly onto Jessie's head (she resisted the urge to throw him off) and immediately jumped again onto the wall ledge, prying his claws into the already loose mark of the ventilation shaft.

The bottom two bolts undone, he carefully lifted the mark up and snuck inside, taking a moment to use his tail to ease that steel cage back into place. Everyone felt their heart rates stabilize as soon as the feline disappeared from their view. It was one of the most frightening things in the world to consider that they all might be found out due to a few creaking hinges.

Misty knew they could afford no more than seven minutes. The guards were rounding the other halls before returning back to their original posts. Because of that, it was best to get in and out before those seven minutes were up, and to be on their way to the next room.

It was already four minutes later when the door suddenly slid open and Meowth waltzed out, his claws up and very proud of his handiwork. He let them all inside before the door closed again. It was here that everyone was finally able to relax a little and breath deep. May wasted no time in running straight to the front of the thirty-meter-long hall, however, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open at the sight of the hundreds of small cages mounted on the walls.

There were shrieks and caws and a few other scattered animalistic noises pouring from some random cages but, other than that, it was quiet. Most of the Pokemon had probably been muzzled or sedated. Others had most likely lost hope in their cries for release having any effect on the people who trapped them there.

"Misty? How do we find what cages _my _Pokemon are in? We need to work fast at this, right?" May asked breathlessly. It was even more of a scare now when she was here and her Pokemon weren't seeking _her _out.

"Give me your Trainer ID number." Misty said, rampaging towards the front of the room where a large computer monitor was sitting. She placed her hands on the revolving mouse and the screensaver disappeared, pulling up a login screen. Misty typed in five characters that appeared as asterisks in the information bar before pressing the enter key. A spreadsheet opened up, categorizing all stolen Pokemon by the ID found on their Pokeballs.

"Uh. . . it's B-20946 / 2." The Hoenn native replied, her eyes partially crossed as she tried to remember. Misty entered the keys and everyone watched as the spreadsheet narrowed the list down to five or six individuals. Misty finished the last of the trainer address and placed her hand on the enter key again, but here she wavered.

"May, you see that little hole in the wall, right there? Yeah. . . that one," Misty nodded and May pointed towards it. "Your Pokemon are going to be appearing there in a few seconds, already in their Pokeballs. I know you want to know how they are after so long - what the damage is, if there is any - but I don't think we have the time." She finally pressed the 'enter' key and everyone was a little impressed to see a few of the cages glow white as whatever was inside of them before suddenly disappearing.

A few moments later about six red and white balls, each an inch or so in diameter, were sitting in front of May as if they'd been there all the while. Alongside them was a Pokedex and a small pouch. Heeding Misty's words, May threw her Pokemon into the bag before stuffing that into her pocket, along with her mini-computer. There was a deep expression of regret etched on her face as she did so.

Misty exited the spreadsheet and logged out of the system. She turned and nodded to Team Rocket, who looked down at Meowth, who (in turn) sighed and climbed up onto James' head this time to avoid Jessie's wrath. He vanished into the ventilation duct again and, to replace the sudden silence, the redheaded rebel turned to her comrades in evil and asked a question.

"You set up the viral tripwire that disables my login time and status, right? So that no questions will be asked of me later?" James nodded and Jessie sighed.

"We set it up a little early to save on time," she started rummaging through her pockets, finally removing a sticklike item about the length of a pen, but a little wider. There was a small, red, cap-like item on top. "Here; once we get closer to the other room, you can press this to transfer the viral data between the two servers." Misty thanked her and placed the item in the top of her boot, next to her thigh. It was at this point that the door opened again and everyone scurried out as fast as possible.

Only Ash seemed to be curious about what Misty had said. Everyone else looked to be caught up in the situation; too much so to pay attention to a few words or statements. But he couldn't ask questions now, not when they were out in the open and could be discovered anytime. There would come a time when he would be able to talk to her freely, and he would be taking advantage of it for sure.

It was a few twists and turns later when they ended up at a stairwell. Misty shuffled the group on through, affording only a moments' glance behind her. May, Brock, and Ash asked themselves why they were taking the stairs and why to go down when they'd just finished coming up, but they knew better than to speak aloud about it. Misty wouldn't have answered anyway.

After the stairs, they came upon another one of those types of halls they happened to remember from their first journey throughout the base almost a year ago. Linoleum floor tiling, plastic plants putted at their sides, the overbearing tick-tock of an invisible clock, and a very sterile stench about the entire place. They tried not to pay attention, but everything around them seemed to bear reminder to what they were doing. The unrealistic deal of their escape mission, the amount of time they had to do it, the cost if they might happen to fail. . .

"To your right," Misty mouthed as quietly as possible and Ash watched as Jessie found the lock on the regular, office-building associated door. "You know how to make it look like a regular-fashioned entrance, right?" Misty asked as Jessie removed a small pin from her hair. The older woman inserted it into the lock and started twisting and jutting it further in.

"Of course. . . !" She grunted as she did so, "but we're going to need your eyes. It'll only work for you."

Her eyes? Ash's own widened at that. What the hell did Jessie mean? What did Misty's eyes have to do with opening the door? Why wasn't this room like the last one?

"I know," Misty said, stepping forward and slowly tracing her hand down her adjacent leg and removing the particularly familiar item from its place under the material of her boot, against her thigh. She widened one of her own eyes and stationed it in front of a place in the wall just as a small, formerly invisible place there opened up. . . there was a camera-looking item here, and a thin red beam of light roved over her iris. A retina scanner, Ash realized, used to identify and give full access to all Team Rocket members. Just as they heard the automatic unlocking of a door and the place in the wall began to close, Misty's hand flicked over the button on the pen-like object Jessie had handed her a few minutes back and she pressed it. Jessie had already thrown opened the entrance into the new room when Ash and the others assuredly heard the crackling of some wires shorting out.

Again they were all tossed inside and, as the door shut behind them, Ash's eyes fell on May's in inquiry. Had she known all of the complications of this escape plan this whole time? From the look on her face, she definitely hadn't. . . He supposed it was all on a need-to-know basis.

His mind finally caught up with the rest of him and he looked around. It was almost like. . . an arcade. There were a bunch of capsules and each one held only one Pokeball inside. Ash was reminded almost resentfully of Jessie and James' many anti-electrical cages used to capture Pikachu. Those glass cases and these were extremely similar.

Misty was at the front of the room where - like the last - a large, wall-dominating monitor stood. Approaching the platform, she keyed in an ID and password and spoke.

"Brock, give me your trainer number."

"Uh. . . S-01992 / 3." He said confusedly. The setup seemed to be a shock for him, too.

"Six of those shells are going to light up; in those are your Pokemon." Misty explained, "Your bag and items will appear with your Pokeballs right. . . there." She pointed to a small ejection socket about three meters to her left. "This is the room where they hold all of the potential threats. That's why all of the Pokemon are separated and contained in their own Pokeballs. The cases disable all escape attempts. The Pokemon are all rumored, exemplary, (or etcetera) threats to the organization. Ash, that would mean you. The only reason May's weren't placed here - I would assume - would be because they were brought by an outside source, someone who wasn't a Rocket agent, and might not have been perceived as an associate of Ash Ketchum's upon arrival here." With the explanation finished, Misty pressed the enter key and six lights flared behind them before a small, simultaneous pop was heard. Probably feeling overprotective, Brock immediately grabbed at his newfound belongings. "The only thing Giovanni knew for sure was that she was a friend of mine, which doesn't necessarily make her a threat. Now, Brock put your Pokemon away.

"Ash, I need your number."

"K-10294 / 2." He stated as eagerly as he felt, his expression suddenly one full of momentary shock; after all, this was the first time all evening that Misty had referred to him personally. His mouth wanted so much to drop open so that he could ask her why, ask her what the plan was leading up to, ask her how she was after Corsola's death, or even in general. . . but he still couldn't bring himself to do it.

Talking to her, asking her things about _her_, it would insinuate that nothing had happened over the course of the past year. But, God, how desperate did that make him, so that he would try and force himself to forget? If she wanted to grieve - especially alone - then why couldn't he let her? If she wanted to disassociate herself from him (for whatever reasons she may have had), then why did he want to ensure that she couldn't?

. . . Maybe she still mattered that much to him. He couldn't really do anything to stop himself from caring for people; he wasn't that kind of person. But it was now, after the events taking place over the course of the past ten months, that he wished he were. Did he deserve to feel this. . . empty? Especially if Misty could walk around so free and open. She didn't deserve that, either.

He wanted her to show that she regretted what she'd done, that she felt ashamed, that she wanted - needed - nothing more than for him to forgive her. . . even if she felt it unnecessary, or unneeded, even if she couldn't find the time. Because if she just so happened to act that way, feel that way, he might simply. . . oblige her.

Because maybe he'd been too quick to judge. Maybe he'd been so quick to see everything as black or white that he hadn't taken the time to look at the spaces of muddled gray in between. And because of that, he also couldn't be sure of what the right thing was to say now when he wanted so badly for her to talk to him normally. As if none of this had happened. As if they were still best friends, and of the most importance to one another.

"Ash, your Pokemon are up. . ." Misty tapped one final key and six more glass cases lit up, ". . . now. Quick, get them from here and let's go. We have one more step to take, one more place to go, before we can leave." He had no time to dwell much more on the subject as he was ushered forth and he nabbed the Pokeballs and stuck the belt they had been attached to onto his waist before pulling his jacket around his shoulders.

He wondered quite suddenly how Pikachu was. . . and gripped his friends' Pokeball a little tighter. He needed to know but couldn't take the chance to ask for the time because they didn't have it. It killed him inside to know such a thing but he felt just a bit better under the thought process that said he couldn't be the only one among them thinking that way.

Did that make him a sadist?

The group stealthily exited the room they were in, the door opening automatically on their way out. (Ash, Brock, and May weren't sure if that was supposed to happen, but it apparently wasn't a detail the rest of them bothered worrying over.) They made their way out into the hall, heading back towards the staircase that had brought them there.

"And now we can leave, right?" May asked, admitting that the truth of it all had sent a good chill down her spine. After all, it had been a good nine or so months since any one of them had had the chance to see something other than a set of four stone walls.

"Not yet, just. . . not at the moment. I have one more place I think we need to go; let's just call it a security measure," Misty shook her head as she whispered, turning the corner and and coming across the hidden door, the entrance to the other floors. They all stepped through silently now and tiptoed their way back from where they'd come already. No one asked what Misty meant, either because they could make their own assumptions or because they felt they didn't have the heart or courage to bother.

Everything was starting to look the same, they realized. It was amazing no one got lost wandering around or circling their posts or the like. . . but maybe once someone got used to the halls and floor maps, it became second nature to manage their way so flawlessly. Honestly, it only made Ash and Brock and May nauseous.

Perhaps Misty had lost her own nerve, or maybe she'd forgotten, or maybe she'd even gotten a bit ahead of herself. Whatever the case, she rampaged around a certain bend and it happened to be the very one that caused a disruption to their plan.

She came to a complete standstill in shock as the male guard, who happened to tower a few inches above her, turned and stared down.

"What are ya doin' down here?" He questioned gruffly, quickly throwing out an arm and catching a hold on her wrist just as everyone else followed her, and James bumped into her shoulder. "Ack! And what's wit' t'em?!" He shouted, yanking her forward roughly and demanding answers.

May went still, numb, and Brock took the moment of wild thought to shove past Ash and Team Rocket and barrel all of his weight into the opposing guard, who fell to the ground in turn, taking Misty with him.

"God, he doesn't know how to let go, does he?" Brock said, shaking his head and leant forward again to firmly rip the redhead's hand from the man's grasp, but she beat him to it.

It took her a few tugs, but she got herself free. The Rocket guard was already halfway to his feet when Misty placed both arms on the ground and swung her leg one hundred and eighty degrees, tripping him back down. Not wasting any time, she grabbed hold of his collar and slammed the back of his head into the wall.

Ash gulped, deciding that he would much rather have not seen that moment. That had not been _Misty _who'd knocked a guy unconscious in a split second and breathed calmly the next as if it had been nothing. At least, it hadn't been the Misty he'd always known, the Misty who was supposedly his best friend all those years.

"I. . . don't know when he'll be up, but I'm sure the first move he'll make when he does will be to call for backup and announce the escape of the prisoners downstairs. We've gotta move." She stated shortly, up on her own in an instant and leading them straight passed the man leaning against the wall, his mouth slightly open but otherwise silently sound.

_Don't waste anymore time_, she told herself.

Let it be known that Misty was not as calm as she sounded. Her face resolute, her tone mechanical, to the others it sounded like she was used to this sort of thing. But, much like everything else she'd done in the past few months, it was all an act.

Every step she took, every corner she turned; she held her breath almost constantly, terrified that an army would be there in the next instant to take her down and kill everyone around her. She knew it would do no good to worry everyone by stressing those fears, so she kept them to herself. Not only was it exhausting, but suffocating as well.

But strength came in so many forms, and she knew that this was the strength she needed to make it through this mission without backing down, or running away, or hurting her friends, or abandoning Ash again. . .

She wasn't in the mood to think on the subject anymore. It suddenly felt like everything was closing in on her just a little bit more, and she wasn't in the mood to be asked why she looked so pale and why she wasn't breathing properly.

"This is it." Misty said, and pulled off her glove. "It can't be helped, we didn't prepare to come here from the beginning, so I'll have to try and think of an impromptu way to disable the security latch on the door. This is the last stop, though, so it should be okay as long as we're all careful." She placed her hand to the red pad beside the doorframe and it turned green. Suddenly, a number pad appeared to take its place, and Misty glanced around at everyone before leaning in (almost as though hoping they wouldn't see) as she pressed in a five digit code to open the door. "It's Giovanni's. Only the top ten trainers or executives (not including him) are allowed in here."

Ash had been thinking it must be something extravagant beyond the wall. It must have been something big and glamorous and possibly even life-threatening.

It was a video-phone.

"This is the private communications center. All calls are one hundred percent secure here - unless you flip the switch on that wall," and she nodded with her head towards such a switch that had a cord extending along the ceiling. "That's only used when contacting other recruits or executives who might be out on the field and who have lost their Gear, which tells them the coordinates to our closest entry. It happens, especially when you're on the run from the law.

"I, however," and here, she approached the switch and flipped it, too, "will be using it to contact Officer Jenny of Viridian."

The group moved quickly; Team Rocket stood guard at the door with Brock while Ash and May followed Misty up to the computer-like screen that went on along almost the entire stretch of the eleven meter long wall. There was a keyboard as well and Misty began typing furiously. She knew that the sooner she finished here, the sooner they could all leave. And she knew even more how much everyone anticipated that freedom.

There was an automatic Information Phonebook accessible on-screen, and Misty identified the main number for the Viridian Precinct and typed it in, accepting the call by pressing the enter button.

It rang twice before anyone answered. For some reason, everyone held their breath in that moment, as though it were something spectacular.

"Viridian Precinct, division 201. How may I direct your call?"

"I need to reach the anonymous tip hotline."

"Understood; I'll be patching you through immediately."

It rang again and only once this time before a harassed-sounding woman replied.

"Hello, how may I help you?"

Figuring they must be working on some big case and be accepting tips on it from all angles, Misty ignored the tone of voice she probably would have commented on when she was younger, and began speaking.

"This is from a source I choose not to disclose. I am sending you a set of the coordinates where you'll find the Viridian Forest entrance to Team Rocket Headquarters. This is not a joke or a prank, but make sure that if you want to follow up on it, then you should do so as fast as possible. Once Giovanni is aware that his position has been marked by the authorities, he _will _be on the move."

"I will make sure that it gets checked into. We are currently accepting tips on a missing persons' case, though, so it might take longer --"

"-- I'm sorry ma'am. I'll say it as kindly as I can; if you don't take advantage of this opportunity now, you may never get it again. I swear on my life that it's no joke. I'm not saying that it's any bigger than whatever else you're working on or whoever you're looking for, but it's not any _less _important. I guarantee you."

". . . Understood. I'll pass this on to the leading division immediately."

The line went dead and, not taking it as bad an omen as she could have, Misty disabled the call on her end and closed out of the windows she had accessed. She logged on to the main menu and opened a user entry panel, unlocking a detailed list of all who had entered the room recently to use its privileges.

And sure enough, her fathers' name was the most recent one added to the list.

"It's just a few seconds longer." She said under her breath, and no one could be sure whether she was telling them or if she was simply trying to reassure herself on the matter. She really had no idea what she was doing. Yes, being a former Gym Leader, basic computer skills were necessary. She had to learn to work spreadsheets and letterheads when charting her competencies and battle average. And she had to know that she was securely contacting the League when it was needed. But trying to make it seem like she had not been somewhere that she obviously had been? That was a different story altogether.

Nevertheless, she right clicked on her father's name and pressed the delete button. A warning signal came up but she ignored it. She knew even now that it was temporary, she knew that it would only buy them a little more time than they already had, but. . . maybe that little bit was all they needed.

And she would take all that she could get.

They exited the room as a group, Misty in the lead once again. She could tell by the expressions on everyone else's faces, the questions asked with their eyes, that they were unsure as to why she'd just done what she had.

_They don't get it; they think that I'm not one hundred percent focused on them. They think that I'm trying to bring Giovanni down, even now, by making sure that the cops get here as we leave so that it's short notice and he has no way of escape. I don't think they'll even consider other possibilities unless I tell them. I can't do that now, though; more unnecessary noise will just draw attention. _She finished that thought and stared ahead of her. Looking back was no good, especially now. She recognized what was going on. She was feeding off of this experience in hopes that it would make all of her bad deeds towards everyone disappear.

_I want them to forgive me after all, I want them to trust me again after this. I was hoping that nothing would change - I don't deserve that change anyway. I thought I would get them out and face the consequences once I knew they were safe and far away from here. But now. . . I want to go with them. I want to know that I'm one of them, and to know what they think of me. I want them to accept me again so that I have nothing to fear. _And she knew it was wrong. That was why she had been trying to keep her distance from them throughout the night. It was the closest any of them had been to her (besides May) since she had faked her own freedom some months earlier by way of kidnapping them all.

_But I don't want _this_. I can't face them knowing that it came to this, what I'm doing now. It's why I told myself I wouldn't. I wouldn't look at them, or speak on familiar terms, or anything like that. I don't want their forgiveness if I don't deserve it, and I have a lot to do before I reach that point._

_First thing I could do would be to get them all out of here without anymore pit stops. No more run-ins with people we can't trust - I don't want them thinking I'm a machine used for causing bodily harm._

_I don't want them thinking this is not all for them, that I'm using this as a chance to pull my father from the throne he feels he's so safe on._

There it was! The front door! It was large and steel and made Misty think of one of those business garage ones that slid open and shut by remote. This would lead them out into the back of the Viridian woods, and after that, they could head towards Viridian and point any officers towards the entrance once again, where they could arrest Giovanni before he knew what hit him.

_They won't catch us! I can't let them catch onto us!_

She found the keypad besides the front door and started putting her number in. Her heart pounded in her head and her hand, shaky as it was, seemed to move in slow motion. Part of her wondered if the sadist in her did it on purpose, though; maybe she really was moving slower so as to increase the length of the dramatic pause. After all, the ones who were really praying for the coming moment were. . . And she glanced in the direction of Ash, Brock, and May, all who were clenching their fists in some way and hoping for this to be over.

The keypad beeped once and accepted the number she put in. Everyone's jaws dropped a little in expectation as the door began lifting from the ground and sunlight drifted through.

. . . Wait.

Sunlight?

_Oh, God. . . No! _And Misty turned towards the others, all of who hadn't noticed anything in particular. _Idiot! Ash, Brock - realize that we're doing this in the middle of the night! There can be no sunlight now!_

But their eyes shown with relief instead, and she knew that nothing could convince them that it all had been for nothing, it all had been a lost battle.

She ran at them and tackled all three of her old travelling partners to the floor with open arms. She took hold of Jessie and James' hands, as they were still standing, and pulled them low to the ground as well. The door opened the rest of the way and the blinding light they'd seen before became clear.

Giovanni stood before them with the very army she had feared the entire night long. On one side of him was a searchlight, turned on to its highest level, and on the other was a net-cannon. It only took two seconds for it to automatically go off.

Luckily, because Misty had pulled everyone to the ground, where they cowered and sheltered their heads, it sailed straight over them and left them all at peace.

Giovanni entered through the opening they had made, and his entire team that had been in the Headquarters followed suit. All of them were armed somehow and one glance told Misty she'd stand no chance - none of them would - if she asked that Ash and the others unleash their Pokemon. Apparently Brock noticed this as well because when May finally gathered her wits and tried to scramble for her purse, attempting to remove a Pokeball, he took hold of her wrist and shook his head sadly.

Her father was clapping his hands as he approached them, at the same time also shaking his head.

"You know, Aurora. . . I don't think I've ever been so impressed and disappointed in one of my team members in eighteen or so years. That was when one of my best of the best decided she'd rather kill herself than have her daughter raised in here where her blood was conceived." He smiled grimly and gave a smirk, finally coming to a stop.

"You've been planning this for a long time, haven't you? Probably a few months. Or has it not been that long? Were you fueled by your need to be accepted by these children again?" He looked to Ash and May and Brock, who stared back defiantly now. He took no notice of Jessie, James, and Meowth just yet.

"You have no answer for me, do you? I'm sorry, girl, are you angry at your old man?" He gave the tiniest sympathetic look before it disintegrated and he threw himself forward, dodging past the few newbie guards that had been placed beside him for security reasons, and grabbed a hold on her upper arm.

Misty was yanked away from her friends in a fierce way. She felt something crack and was fifty-nine percent sure that he had just popped her shoulder from its socket. And, grimly aware that May had tried to pull her back towards them but had been unsuccessful, she let herself be lead away from everyone by the man who had helped birth her.

"You. . . ! I'm giving you everything I have! I'm making you stronger! You should be able to handle pitiful brats like these with ease! You should not recess to what you were before I brought you to me! You are _mine_, my soldier, and you don't deserve the right to think you're average like the rest of them!" Giovanni's sudden sense of temper vanished the very instant he said this, and he returned to a calm and grim expression. "Heh. . . It's alright, it's fine. . . I'll give you another chance, though you don't deserve it.

"Because you thought I wouldn't have guessed what you were trying to pull. Indeed, I knew you would be one of the hardest nuts to crack and that was why I pushed you so. I may have even purposefully led you to this escape attempt, but you will never be completely sure. Even so, when I found out, I made sure I allowed you to reach this point before I stopped you. . . because I wanted to make sure I destroyed you in the most thorough way possible."

He looked to Ash and the others next, a snide smirk growing on his face.

"You three, did you even think to consider that maybe she did this because I ordered her to? Maybe this is all a setup so that you are broken as well; because what would you have been hoping for more other than my daughter being overcome with even one ounce of humanity?"

The three Pokemon trainers said nothing, though they did turn a unanimous glance at Misty, asking her with their expressions if that possibility were true. And yet, while her heart went out to them to try and confirm it as a lie, she still couldn't speak. She felt words forming in the back of her throat, from her mind, but they just wouldn't make themselves real to anyone but herself.

"And you three fools. . ." Giovanni's unwavering gaze fell to his ex-Rockets, who were too terrified now to even look up, "Did you think this was really the best decision to make? I had been so kind as to let you go before. . . although, now, I might be inclined to kill you with the rest."

May sniffled under her breath, and everyone's heart beat a little faster.

"No, no. . . Maybe not. Maybe I won't kill any of you; maybe I've scared you all enough for now, and sedated your hopes for freedom so much so that you won't try this again. . . Still," and here he turned to stare at Misty again before finally letting her go, "I feel a lesson should be taught. Alas, I think I've lectured enough for tonight so. . . maybe I should leave it up to the future leader of Team Rocket?" And his smirk now was so wide that it looked as though it would fill up his face before sliding off.

"I've let you get away with too much, Aurora; I fear I have led you to think you might have a will stronger than mine. . . and we can't have that, can we? After all, I made you who - nay, _what _- you are. I made you strong, invincible, and smart, and a challenge to anyone who might oppose us. I would prefer if you treated me as one might treat others who have gifted them.

"So I will give you an opportunity to redeem yourself, seeing as I am just that kind. I don't want anyone to think that I'll let them get away with something like this, and I don't want you to think you're above the rest of them because you've done mostly as you pleased so far.

"Because, although you are better - your blood is better - you must be a thoughtful, justified leader who does not allow your followers to know that you think that way, right?"

Giovanni held out a hand to one of his henchmen, who in turn handed him an unfamiliar brand and caliber of pistol. And then her father handed it to her.

"So. . . be a better person, Aurora dear, and kill one of the three before you that keep pulling you back to that life you chose to leave behind. I daresay you won't be able to return once you've ended a life or two and soiled your hands in _real _blood."

There was a pounding in her ears; a voice in the back of her head told her that, now, everyday was making her a worse person. Who would she become if this kept up? Was there even anything she could do to change what was happening to her? She could never be like Ash, nor be liked by Ash, and the others, if she couldn't find some way to go back to the days when she first appealed to them.

What was appealing about a murderer, a traitor, after all? They looked at her with an innocence she knew they wouldn't find on her face. May, Jessie, James, and Meowth had begun shaking about five minutes ago. Ash and Brock were resolute in their stance, but a ringing terror was running through their eyes.

She couldn't do this. She _wouldn't _do this.

She stared at the gun in her hand. It would be so easy to turn right now and aim it at that devil of a man with whom she shared a blood relation. . . But what if one of those low-ranked soldiers jumped in front of him and took the hit? For whatever reason, she couldn't live with that either.

He was the only one worth killing, worth spilling blood and soiled humanity over.

"You're wasting my time, Aurora. How hard is it to decide? Rid this audience of whoever you care for the least; it would be most simple that way, wouldn't it? But then again," and Giovanni looked honestly thoughtful as he considered it, "that would leave the one you cared for most hating you forever. You don't seem the type to be able to manage past that. So would it be better to turn this fate on. . ." He took hold of her hand, lifted it, and made it so that the weapon was facing Ash, ". . . someone else?"

Misty tore away from him, her eyed studying the floor. Ash was probably too focused on the current situation to take to heart what Giovanni's words had meant, but that didn't mean she wasn't wary. She couldn't begin to wonder about something like that, knowing what she was facing - what _everyone _was facing. And it was all up to her to end it.

"You're not fighting this much, are you? What's wrong? I thought you valued these pitiful children more than anyone. Did you change your mind? Maybe you've realized that there's nothing you can do to make up for the path you've chosen. . . and that there's no way to forgive you. After all, no one has said otherwise, have they? None of them have actually told you that they understand and will not hold any of this against you. Are they really worthy of your sympathy, then?

"Come on, Aurora; show them what you're really like. Teach them the lesson they need to learn more than anything with a cold, swift, decisive measure not known to anyone except those of my relation." And his voice wavered with expected glee as he tapered off towards the end.

She wouldn't dare to look at him now, nor the rest of them. Slowly, she raised her weapon. It was what she had to do; there was no other choice. She had rolled everything over and over again in her mind, hoping that she could hold back awhile longer but knowing that if she did, then there would be no future for anyone. The Viridian City officers were taking too long to arrive. What could she expect, however? They were probably still debating at the precinct, even now, whether or not to accept her words from awhile ago as a tip to follow up on.

_"Come on. . ." _Whispered a voice that she couldn't even decipher as real at this point.

_"Come on. . ." _It came again and her hand rose a little higher.

_"Come on, come on, come on. . . !" _And the gun was cocked and was facing Giovanni so that it shocked him as well as everyone else, even if only for an instant.

She was doing it, she had no other choice. Who else could she honestly afford to lose?

She afforded a split second glance around the hallway and noticed a few men and women gathering around her father by means of defense. He was smirking again now, knowing that he was safe from her.

"What would you be planning? It's not as if you could get away with something like. . ." But the words died in his throat as she turned the trigger on Brock.

On May.

On Ash. And it wavered as her entire arm shook. The look on his face as she held it there for the extra second was enough to kill.

No, no; she just _couldn't _do that. . . !

"Yes, yes; that's right. . . Make sure they know what you are now, and there's no point in trying to change it. . ." Her father whispered, and it echoed in the front of her mind. It was all she heard as she poised the gun back at the youngest of the group she was sure would never trust her again.

"Sorry, May. I kept ruining everything you were trying to do for me. Stupid little things, too, but they make all the difference when you can't get them right. . ."

And she faced Brock again.

"Maybe we should have listened to you after all, Brock. We were no match for this, and now I can't change anything. I guess I wanted to do it on my own so badly, it was like winning a stupid battle and proving I was worth it. . . not anymore, though. . . Sorry. . ."

And finally. . . she and Ash made eye contact one last time.

". . . You'll never forgive me now, not after what I've done to you and what I'm about to do now. I wanted a happy ending for everyone and I had hoped that, even if everything had to hit rock bottom before it happened, that I could build it back up. It's impossible for someone like me to do, and I don't want you to feel obligated to put forth that effort. . .

"Gods, Ash, I wish you could forgive me like I've been dreaming of you doing for the past nine months."

Ash looked as though he had something to say, but he couldn't find the words. His mouth opened and closed a couple times, but either he didn't know what to say, or he was unsure if saying it would make a difference.

"Do it, do it now. . . ! I'm tired of words, Aurora, as is everyone else! Action is what causes change; words will never mean anything to anyone!" Her father shouted gleefully, unable to take anymore waiting.

"You're a cold, impatient, lonely, calculating man, Giovanni. Brilliant though I know you are, it means nothing to anyone other than yourself. You've gotten this far based on cheap tactics and repulsive behaviors and I would have hoped never to be like you in a million years. I hope that doing what I'm about to do won't make it seem any other way. Just let me. . . get _away_. . . from you. . . !" She shouted quite suddenly, a gasp for air unable to make her legs stop shaking.

It had come down to this.

"Sorry for all the trouble I'm causing. Goodbye."

There was a crack like lightning and the victim's blood splattered against the wall before anyone could even blink. A body hit the ground and violently red liquid began flowing around and around as though it were circling in a drain.

The likeness of Misty's emotions versus her crime became clear when her hands lost contact with the gun she had been holding and she hit the floor, the palms of her white gloves stained a chilling violet as she took her last breath.

OoOoO

**Notes **- Wow, what's an author's note again? Ah, I'm so happy I finished this. . . _finally_. Truth be told, I have actually had this done for awhile now, but I had no way of posting it since I don't have interweb and my flash drive had been killed so I couldn't transfer the file to somewhere that _did_. But it's okay, since I bought a new one and have the liberal freedom for the next month or so to write more often then when I was in class. (Truth be told, it's really not all that often even now, since I'm still working a lot of hours, taking other classes for the program I'm in, and am also planning to go on vacation for a week or so next month.) Then again, one of the readers of this fic is someone I'm going to stay with, so she probably won't let me off the hook when it comes to posting. -**sigh**- Oh, well. . .

Oh, yeah, and as for other fics like _SKoL_. . . Hm, I dunno when I'll update. I've started on the next chapter to that one in particular, but. . . I won't pretend that I'm not nervous about how characters like Drew will look by the end of it. I want that fic to be perfect in nearly all aspects, even if all of the characters are older and OoC and etcetera.

And I think that's all I had to say! Oh, wait. . . I'm sorry it took this long to update; I really am. This chapter had been sitting at fourteen thousand words for so long on my laptop, and I think I was just scared of how that final scene was going to turn out. I didn't want it to be too graphic, not graphic enough; and I wanted emotions to be what drove the characters in the end. I wonder if it worked well enough.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Author **- Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon; if I did, Illicit Saints would be a feature film and the anime would be a little more adult and a little more Pokeshippy. No, wait. . . A lot more Pokeshippy. Lots more; yup. But I don't, so it doesn't matter in any case.

**Warning **- Contains sexual references and displays, graphic violence, etc. Rated 'M' for mature themes.

OoO

**Characters **/ **Ages **-

**Misty **/ **17-18**

**Ash **/ **16-17**

**Brock **/ **20**

**May **/ **13-14**

**Jessie **/ **22-23**

**James **/ **22**

OoO

**Pokemon - Illicit Saints**

Part Seven

OoOoO

Death was a relief for the soul, and no one knew that better than Misty now. For a split second, as she lay floating and floating higher, raising herself up into the atmosphere (or that's what it felt like, at the very least), she could honestly say that she knew everything about everyone in the world.

It was like her eyes roved around every continent at once, and her mind and range of emotion stretched out so that she could feel things that belonged to other people, as if those feelings were her very own. She could see the murder and the domestic and sexual assaults, the burglarizing and the theft, the confessions of teenagers "in love" and how those confessions led to certain activities that those kids seemed too young to handle.

She knew everything that was of fact and opinion. There were words that could flow from her mind to the lips her soul wasn't even sure she posessed anymore. They weren't hers and she had no idea whose they were in fact, but she knew the meaning behind them all the same. Everything made sense now.

Well, except for her anyway. She was dead. She _was_ dead, right? She was sure of it. Having given up the role of life she'd had up until a short time ago (actually, the entire concept was one of the very few things she couldn't be clear of at the moment) and feeling the weightlessness of having no body or guilt tying her down. . . It meant that all she had was the consciousness to attain knowledge and ask questions. She wasn't sure how she felt about that, actually.

She still knew about all that was happening to Ash and May and Brock. They hadn't left her thoughts either. But she felt no personal compassion towards the situation anymore. It had nothing to do with her. It was just _happening._ It was just in existence, and there was nothing that could be done to prevent the ticking of a clock and the world set in motion. Something about that also left her feeling - feeling? - numb, because the logic that was left in her wondered how she could have been so invested in that moment earlier. What had caused her to take her own life? Who would do that? Why had she been telling herself at the time that she knew it was the right thing to do?

Part of her wondered if she'd resorted to her childhood. She was inquisitive and careless, if her final action on Earth was any indication. . . But she was also a little too detached now, wasn't she? A child would usually cling to something, a child would be dependent because they would know of no other way to survive. So she was no longer herself, and she had not regressed to a former stage in her life. Just what was she now?

A ghost? Maybe. . . but, as a ghost, just where did she belong, exactly?

Time stopped and the weight returned to her. Awareness told her that there was a change in scenery taking place and she wanted to blink her eyes and clear away the darkness so that she would know for sure what was happening. Of course, without a body to do that, it was impossible. . . It made her feel uncomfortable. But feeling uncomfortable made her feel comfortable again. How strange.

An extremely loud funneling sound filled her ears, or rather, the place where her ears would have been. Still, she heard it clearly. How could she not? It was like something was draining, echoing, in a very high-pitched, dream-like way. Was that. . . a voice?

"You're here."

A flash of light and she could blink her eyes again, because they were hers. She caressed her own abdomen and breasts, her neck and then her face. They were real. She was still real. But did that mean she was alive? Her gaze flew to her stomach and she began inspecting the place where the gunshot wound _should _have been. But it wasn't there. And she felt no pain, either.

Then she must have been dead.

But what could explain the illusionary voice?

"You're here," it repeated, and she listened to it clearly now. She was sure she knew that voice. Was it her own?

She viewed her surroundings, at peace with the fact that she had a body to turn around with, but there was still nothing there. She stood naked in front of an expansion of white nothingness, but felt no shame or embarrassment at the fact. She existed as humans were originally meant to exist, and she accepted her appearance. In fact, it instilled her with the confidence to face her next challenge, and with that. . . she stepped forward.

It meant nothing though, because there was simply nowhere to go. Still, and she had to squint her eyes and pinch her thigh to make sure she wasn't imagining it, the mirage of a woman drifted before her.

Golden, sharp eyes and wings, ebony hair and a pale complexion she, Aurora - or Misty - had inherited. This was indeed the vision of her mother that she remembered.

"You are here."

The most complicated mix of emotion to ever fill her did just that. She was finally seeing her mother again. But she dreaded what that meant, because it did mean something. With the return of her body for this moment, she had also felt the return of every personal infliction of what had happened while under the wing of that man who called himself her father. And now she wondered if her sacrifice had done anything for her friends other than tear them apart more. But then, she shouldn't give herself such credit, for Ash and Brock at least couldn't have cared less as far as she knew.

Even as these thoughts flowed through her open mind, she found herself hurriedly embracing the woman she had long forgotten about _because _of those friends. Surely, certainly, this was why her body had been returned. So that she could feel this, so that she could experience _this _moment.

This was why she was here, wasn't it?

"Daughter." The word was distant and reaching. She heard it clearly and knew it was meant for her, but at the same time felt that it had traveled throughout the entirely vast space of nothing for everyone and anyone to hear as well. "This is the time, and we don't have long."

She didn't understand, and opened her mouth to tell the woman just that, but her voice hadn't found it's way back to her yet.

"This appearance. . . This is what my flesh has given to you. But you have his hair. . ." She said it reminiscently and drew a long strand to her lips before releasing it and allowing it to fall back down. "But we do not have the time to dwell on that. Even if we could last forever here in this place, they might die down there without you."

Misty opened her mouth again, but still no words came. Now she was curious. She wasn't just speechless from the intensity of the moment. Her voice had yet to be returned.

Her mother caressed her throat in understanding.

"Your trial begins now, then. You were brought here to make a choice; two even. You cannot think on it. Not for long. Your impulses will drive you to what you know you need to do. So what will you do?"

Misty didn't understand what was happening, and shrugged her shoulders. This - whatever this was - it was moving too fast for her. She had hoped to linger for just a bit more. . . but her mother wanted her to move on as soon as possible. What did her mother expect of her?

"Will you live, or will you die?"

Misty's mind whited out for just a moment, blown away by the bluntness of that question. She had a choice in the matter, something she didn't think was possible anymore. In her head, a metaphorical clock ticked madly away, and she wondered what she could say. What was she supposed to say?

"You are on the brink down there. You would die, but the fates say that your life has more purpose yet to be fulfilled. Your father is still free, and part of the destiny paved for you was to take him down. I am afraid that I paved that destiny for you. You have other shapes appearing in your destiny too, meaning there are still more things to accomplish that other people may have influenced you with. That is why you won't die yet. You were meant to die there. . . but the order of events was out of place. You didn't complete the other parts of your destiny therefore you aren't able to die just yet. Unless you want to give up those things. If you forfeit what you would have lived out your life to do, you will stay here."

**With you?** The words wanted to leave her, and she even felt herself inclined to agree to that alone, but. . .

"Because there are still things left for you to accomplish, however, you have been given the choice to return to that world if you want. Though you will suffer. This is not a free pass; there will be consequences that accompany this second chance."

Misty stood there and thought about it. She had made her sacrifice for her friends, hadn't she? To cause a distraction that would last long enough for the Viridian City police force to arrive on the scene, something her father had yet to realize, as far as she knew. Because of that, what did she really have left to do? As long as everything went well, her duties to her friends and to herself. . . they would be done.

"It is a hard choice to make, I know. . . Perhaps you should take something out of the equation?" Her mother, or the figment of her dying imagination that she thought was her mother, said to her.

Misty blinked, unsure what that was supposed to mean. Was she supposed to take the situation with Giovanni out? But that didn't make sense, did it? Because he was one of those parts of her destiny that she had yet to finish. She had a feeling that Ash and the others were the shapes fitted to the rest of her destiny; call it intuition. But other than that, the only crucial thing that held her back was. . .

**You?** She opened her mouth to say it but the word escaped her at the base of her throat. Still, either she and her mother had a psychic connection on this plane or the woman had just as much intuition as her, because she nodded.

"I understand that you are scared, and seeing me makes you feel like you're finally where you belong. But do not forget that I told you there were still many things left for you to do. That means that what your father is doing now. . . You will survive it, won't you? And go on to do those many things you've left to do. Do not let my presense influence your choice. Shouldn't you be just as scared for your friends who are still down there with him, as you were for yourself when you finally realized what you had to do before?"

**Of course. . . ! Of course I should be, and I am! But what if they look down on me even more? I couldn't handle the way I was treated before now, let alone if they still felt the same way! Because I **_was _**scared for myself. I was committing suicide, I was dying! I was leaving them because that man's words cut me, though I never let them know it. . . He made me feel like I had nothing left, like I wasn't me anymore. . . And what could be worse than losing your identity to somebody like that?**

Again, the words only raced through her mind, but never made it to her lips. She felt at her own throat again, and her face. She still didn't understand why it wasn't working, her voice.

"You have reached the basis for the second decision you must make."

**What is it?**

"You must take back whichever identity means the most to you. You may be Aurora, who is of my flesh and blood, or you may be Misty, who has become independent of that flesh and blood."

Misty blinked to show her confusion. Well, it wasn't really confusion. Maybe it was more disbelief? Two seperate identities. The truth was that choosing one or the other didn't necessarily mean anything. Neither meant that she actually gave up the other. Choosing would just mean she would decide who she _wanted _to be. Somehow, it was still just as hard to figure it all out.

"Do you understand?"

**. . . Yes, I do.**

But still, it was just as hard. The time they had, little though it was, did not change their surroundings, but she felt an eerie difference that hadn't been there before nonetheless. She didn't know what to say. She didn't want to disappoint anybody. Her mother - surely the woman wanted to get to know her child? But Ash and everyone else. . . How could she be sure that they would be okay? She had left them for dead, though she hadn't meant it. She had been so terrified of giving up her life for them at the time. . . but more than that, she had been scared that she would be forced to make them suffer anymore. After everything she'd done, after deciding that she didn't want to be _that _person anymore, she had laid it all out before her and made that choice.

Her choice.

Perhaps this was slightly easier than she had thought, after all.

"You must remember, daughter, that a mistake is not simply a bad decision. A bad decision is not simply a sin. It all ties into the existence of your conscience. How you feel about the decisions you've made is what differenciates between the good and evil of humanity."

A crime she had yet to take responsibility for before now floated through her mind.

**What if you kill a dozen men and don't feel a thing?**

For she hadn't, remembering what she'd done before leaving Cerulean City to seek out her friends. Those bastards. . . they had killed her mother. . . _This _woman!

"What if those men were attempting to thieve, rape, and murder you? Circumstances _do _bend the rules at times; you should know exactly what side of the line you stand on. Or have the many sacrifices you made meant nothing?"

**He told me that I had to choose between the three of them. I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill one of them. . . I had to take a different route.**

"And now, here we are."

**I - I'm dead. . . I did begin to wonder at some point what it'd be like.**

Though she'd never imagined anything like this before.

Suddenly, the woman held out a hand, a single finger pressed to the expansive white nothingness. The view changed, altered, and became a sort of horizon, a reflection of the world Misty had left behind.

"This is what is happening to them right now." An image appeared and magnified itself for Misty to see, fading out into the sky.

The blood was pooling around their feet and May, Ash, and Brock were staring at the chillingly still body of their friend, not daring to believe it. It was a true tragedy, thus their lack of tears. But May was hopelessly shaking the corpse this way and that, praying but also just as certain that Misty wouldn't wake up. Brock was glaring at the ground like it had done this to them. To her. He didn't know what else he could do anymore. Ash was clutching one of Misty's hands as tightly as he could, having scrambled forward in disbelief after she'd hit the floor. His expression was one of loss, but otherwise emptiness.

_"It's. . . it's not fair! She couldn't shoot any of us like they told her to, and so she did the only thing she could! Why did she do that?"_ May cried agonizingly,_ "Why couldn't she have just--? Does she really expect me to live with this choice she's made?"_

_"Shut up May. . ."_ Brock said, a broken man. He had not been prepared for this either. _"This isn't the time to be worried about that. . . It's just selfish to think that way right now." _His voice was short and biting as he attempted one shaky step forward, _"Who really needs our support in this now is. . ." _He jerked his head pointedly at Ash, who seemed to come back to himself at the gesture.

_"No. . . That's not right. . . not fair. . ."_ Ash murmured as though the statement would justify the chance of Misty waking up, _"I told her. . . I promised myself; I said. . . that I'd make up for that time when I wasn't there for her. . . !" _He dropped the hold he'd managed to retain on her hand, his eyes wide but dark storming clouds growing in their depths, _"Not fair. . . ! No! I didn't even have a chance!" _He shouted quite suddenly, slamming his fist into the cobblestone floor so hard that he felt a knuckle crack. The flesh broke open and he bled freely for the time being. It was the least he deserved.

He had forgotten that time when Misty had meant more to him than any other person he'd ever met. He had been tested by her and Giovanni, but not only them. The world had pitted him against his best friend - the girl who meant the most to him - and he'd failed miserably. But before all of that there had been a time and place when he had told her he would become stronger for her. He would protect her, earnestly and completely, because beyond their friendship, they were partners.

"_I'm sorry that I let you down back there." _He had told her back in Rustboro.

_"I should have been there to help you." _Yes, he should have seen this coming.

_"Just know that the only thing that makes all of that bearable is that. . . You're alive, and okay, and here with me now." _No, not anymore. . . How could he have buried those emotions so deep that he had forgotten about ever feeling them? And now it was too late to do anything.

_"I'm sorry. . ."_ He continued as he moved to her side and groped at the small of her back, attempting to raise her into his arms.

_"I'm sorry. . ." _He said again to her deathly pale face as he propped her body onto his knees and held onto her tenderly through a secure embrace.

_"I'm so, so sorry. . ." _He murmured with the slightest of devastated sniffles, placing his forehead to her limp scalp, hoping to find some comfort, _"If I'd known. . . what you were going to do, I'd have. . . tried to do something to help. . . but. . . Oh, God, I'm sorry, so sorry. . . Misty. . ." _And as he lay there like that, after speaking her name for the first time in months, he finally found himself shedding tears for her sake.

_"How inconvenient for you that the only person who could have preserved any of your lives has decided to turn coward." _A new voice stated, and all three remembered that Giovanni and his legions of followers were still there with them, a score to be settled.

However Giovanni's words had done what far little else could at that point. That was, the fierce misery around Ash, May, and Brock temporarily evaporated so that they all felt the rage that the situation called for, that which had somehow remained dormant. Until now.

_"You bastard!"_ Brock shouted, and he took a step forward to speak his mind in a more physical sense, but May hooked both of her arms around one of his legs. Nevertheless, he continued shouting if nothing else._ "You've got no idea, you moronic, narcissistic son of a bitch!"_

_"She did what she did to save us! Maybe, since you obviously don't understand why she'd do it, it seems crazy! But then again, you're such a fucking coward yourself that it wouldn't matter either way!"_ May continued for her friend, who didn't look like he could've grasped all of the things he wanted to say to the leader of Team Rocket, _"You see, you never quite got it, but. . . This is just the knowledge of one of many traits of Misty's that helps convince everyone that. . . she was never really _your _daughter to begin with! All you saw was blood relation and you were foolish enough to think that made her like you, but you're wrong!" _She broke off to give herself a chance to breathe. _"Not when she's spent her whole life fighting what you are!"_

Giovanni smirked, though the fiery light of his coal-like eyes showed that he was obviously irritated at their words.

_"I'm done with you three; seeing as you are really no threat to me, I'm sending you back to your dungeon homes to die."_ He turned his attention to a group of Team Rocket trainers, who went rigid and saluted, _"Remove them. And rid my headquarters of that disgusting corpse. It doesn't fit the decorum of this hallway at all."_

_"It's not done; we're not finished here." _Ash suddenly spoke against the wall of approaching Rockets. _"I'm giving you more than enough of a fair warning," _and as he broke off for a second, he didn't sound like he was making it fair. He sounded more like he was bragging. Clutching aggressively at Misty's body, he continued. _"It's over for you. The Viridian City Officer Jenny and her unit should be here in just a few minutes."_

Giovanni halted mid-step at this comment. It seemed that, while he'd known that the group was planning an escape, he hadn't thought they'd be resourceful - albeit, smart - enough to do something such as that. Behind Ash, May and Brock were looking just south of mortified.

_"Ash, what are you thinking--? Who _really _knows when they'll be here, and you just go telling him. . . !"_ Brock said furiously, but Giovanni interrupted.

_"I see. . . Well, now you've upset me. You really are. . ."_ He turned to face Ash, staring into his eyes, _". . . a liability to me. And, in case it's not common knowledge to you, I hate liabilities. They are useless in the ever-fruitful production of my organization. So, whereas before I was just going to lock you away in the cell block and discard of your friend's body, I think I might be boiled enough now. . . to execute you myself."_

Ash didn't move, nor did he bother himself with being phased by the man's words. Instead, he turned his gaze to Misty as though blind to everything else and stared so avidly at her unmoving face that it looked as though he wanted to forget her and what had happened so that he could fade away and not have to live through such a reality.

But then, looking back up at Giovanni, he said in the emptiest tone so far, _"I. . . I don't care what you say anymore. You already did the worst. . . You already ruined. . ." _His grip on Misty, formerly lax, began to tighten securely again, _". . . so. . . It doesn't matter what threats you make. You can't make things any worse for me than they are already. . ."_

_"To the contrary. . ."_ Giovanni said with a chilling smirk, his voice rising almost maniacally as he pivoted to his right and snatched the revolver from his man's hand, that which had been dropped by Misty after she'd ended her own life with it. _"I can make things so much worse for you, more than you think!" _He cocked the gun and held it up, pointing it first at Brock, then to May, then to Ash himself, then to Misty, _"but let me torture you softly before I show you what I'm capable of."_

Everyone seemed to be waiting with bated breath at his statement. Like Ash, when Giovanni allowed the face of the gun to mark May and Brock's torso, they didn't wince.

_"You are right in thinking her death is a loss for you. . . She told me once that she trusted in you three more than almost anything, and that. . . when you foolishly gave up on her the way you did, it broke her solidity. It's something, isn't it? You say that I've done this to her, I drove her to this, but you're really very wrong. How could I have done this when, at the point that she attempted to help you escape, it was only because she wanted you to trust in her again?" _Giovanni asked almost offhandedly, and it was obvious that, though he didn't move to show it, Ash was shocked by this news. _"If you don't believe me, ask your friend there. The two girls were talking to each other for weeks before my daughter started breaking down cell doors, weren't they? What was it that they discussed. . . ?"_

May's eyes widened in shock. After all, it was true that Misty's mind, while forcibly focused on what they had to do to escape, was still somewhere else for most of their conversation. And it had been painfully obvious where that _somewhere else_ was. The Hoenn girl caught Ash's eye for a moment before she hopelessly lost her nerve and had to look away.

_"Indeed." _Giovanni smirked wickedly. _"It's almost as though. . . _you _were the cause of this, boy. Maybe, just maybe, if you'd believed in her, then her thirst to prove herself to you wouldn't have been so strong and she wouldn't have done such a thing as killed herself."_

Ash finally looked up again and May caught sight of the expression in his eyes, fearful that the guilt of such a truthful statement would hurt more than anything else at this point. But then, he turned to face Giovanni and she could no longer tell just how wounded he was by the news.

Finally, he took a moment to talk, to voice his feelings on the unnerving truth.

_"You're. . ."_ Giovanni's grin widened just slightly as Ash started in a quiet, miserable, tone, _". . . such an idiot. . . ! So stupid!"_ And, allowing his possible insanity to draw everyone's attention to his words, he laughed. It wasn't exactly loud, but it was confident, and it falsified the Team Rocket leader's attitude towards the situation. _"Really, what is it you take me for? Just a few minutes ago, you called Misty a coward for what she did, and now you're trying to say that she was hopelessly heroic and attempting to prove herself to us?" _Suddenly his laughter faltered and he stared imploringly at the man before him, _"My friends are right. You must be the real coward here if you can only get your kicks by making a few currently traumatized teenagers feel miserable about something like this." _Although he sounded very bright and comical during this statement, it was easily known that he was still hurting deeply, still scarred underneath his fleshy guard.

Giovanni was looking as though any words of argument he might have had would undoubtedly fail him, and the somehow eternally silent underground chamber was filled with the quaking, earsplitting click-click of his heels making their way across the six foot distance placed between him and Ash.

_This _was why he'd hated the boy to begin with. _This _was the behavior he loathed, the disrespect and uncanny bravery that had caused his own daughter to fall astray. Had she never met this Ash Ketchum, had they never turned friends and learned to think so alike, he would have had no trouble training her as his little puppet.

_"You think your efforts make you brave. . . ? Well. . ."_ In a flash, the gun was out again and practically held against the teenage trainer's temple, _". . . drop her now. Place yourself before me and bag for mercy and I might just make this fast. . . or slow, depending on how much you value a life at all. . ." _A twisted grin became apparent as he strengthened his grip on the trigger and began to pull back.

He would not lose control; not of himself, and not of his prisoners. They were not allowed to behave so insubordinately. They were supposed to follow his orders silently without wills of their own. And he would beat that into them if it was the last thing he did.

_"Sorry, but. . . I don't think that's the way I want to go, begging for or against it. That act is usually reserved for. . . people like you, as I've come to understand."_ All Ash allowed of himself was to stare defiantly up at the man, the criminal, who seemed to find it a worthy sense of entertainment in that he was ruining everyone's lives.

_"N - no. . . !"_ May cried suddenly, _"No Ash, don't. . . don't be stupid. . . Don't let him. . . finish it just yet. . . Did Misty really make such a sacrifice so that you could get yourself killed in the aftermath by egging him on. . . ?" _She croaked in a small, terrified whisper.

_"That's right, boy, do you think she'd really be that thankful of you. . . if she was still here?"_ Giovanni's smirk widened but it barely held long enough for them to realize that he thought himself funny.

_"I think. . . maybe. . . she might have."_ Ash shrugged as though the conversation had turned humorous and allowed a ghostly smirk to appear on his face,_ "But then, you probably wouldn't have had the time to grasp what type of person she was while you were caught up on that freaky fatherly complex and the action of torturing her. . ."_

Giovanni growled and his level of control on his temper faltered and seemed to die out instantly, unleashing a sadistic, manic fury that lunged at Ash full-force.

_"You fucking brat. . . ! You will not get the best of me. . . ! I won't allow you to!"_ He rolled the gun over in his palm so that the hilt faced backwards and rammed it into the back of Ash's neck. Ash hit the ground hard, toppling over Misty's body so that the blood formerly clotting around her bottom lip and neck smeared itself on his face as well. His vision of her expression of nothingness was immediately invaded by a series of pockmarked spots dancing before him. It was such a strange sight to him that it took an extra moment to realize that he was in pain.

_"Ash. . . !"_ A distorted voice shouted shrilly, and, next moment, May was at his side, helping him sit back up on his knees. She attempted to wipe the blood off of his face with one of her gloves, using a fragile grip. Amazingly, Ash's hold on Misty had barely faltered, and strengthened again as soon as it was possible for him.

_"Did I say you could move?"_ Giovanni asked frigidly, and May was forced to jump backward as he let loose a warning shot right in front of where she'd been not a moment before_. "Why don't you scream for me? A young girl should only scream for the ears of those who appreciate it. . . Surely you don't think he has a mind to listen to you? Not when he's focused so dearly on my daughter. Don't be selfless on account of those who don't care just as much for you."_

_". . . Shut up. . ."_ Brock said shakily, his eyes on the smoking floor, the bubbling acid having sunk through the very stone they were standing on.

They hadn't realized before now, but that gun was. . . Those bullets were. . . He took a step forward as though he wanted to say something else, but nothing came. He didn't think words would be enough, they would never be enough after what had happened. He had to think about something else, distract himself, breathe deeply so that he wouldn't lose the little bit of control he had over himself. But thoughts were doing him no good.

Stupidly, emotions having overthrown his logic after so long being held back, he lunged at the man before him. He wanted to throw a punch, he wanted to hurt him - do to him what he had done to Ash. To Misty. To May. To their families, who had gone so long without knowledge of where their children were. He had taken care of his siblings for years, he knew the kind of pain that often caused in people who _didn't know_.

But again, it was a stupid move. One Rocket clung to his front and stopped him before he'd even taken three steps. Another appeared behind him and tackled him to the floor, arms yanked to his own back and his cheek mashed into the ground. He felt the rough stone scratch at his face enough to cause some bleeding, but it didn't stop his struggles.

Weapons were trained on him in the next instant, whips and tazers and guns. Ready. . . Aim. . . _Stop!_

Stop!

**Stop!**

The scene froze. Misty stared, horrified. Those idiots! There were all going to get themselves killed, even after what she'd done. In a moment of misplaced hilarity, she felt the historical want to hit them all violently with her mallet. They couldn't do that!

She knew what she had to do, then, though she didn't know if it would do any good. But if it wouldn't then why would they offer her the chance? In order to allow the rest of them to live on, she would also have to live on.

**I'll go back.**

"Are you sure?" Her mother did not sound as though she would miss her. She sounded. . . proud? Maybe. "I've warned you there will be consequences. You understand that, don't you? And you accept them?"

". . . Yes." Suddenly her voice was her own again. She didn't understand what had happened that allowed it to return to her, but she wasn't going to complain. She would definitely need it to relate all of her experiences to everyone. Whoever that _everyone _entailed. "I can't let them go. I thought I was doing right by them when I died. If the right path is for me to live - even if I have to suffer forever - I will. I've hurt them enough, haven't I?" She actually smiled now, just a glimmer of the girl she had been when she was younger. "Besides, as I recall, there are still things left for me to do. I accept those duties as part of my being, part of my future. I want to live and see that future."

**And that is alright for you?**

The shadow of a whisper that had formerly allowed her to communicate now fluttered from her mother. She gulped and nodded, the woman floating to her slowly, softly. Somehow, her steps were like a liquid fire. It rippled and spread even when she was closing in. Arms encircled her in the time it took her to blink, and Misty felt the comfort only family could give. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she'd ever feel that again after this.

**Goodbye.**

The next moment, it was gone and a hand was pressed to the place just above her left breast. Her heart. She felt herself being pushed back and lost her balance almost too easily, toppling over and down through the invisible floor of the white expansive nothingness. As she continued to fall endlessly, the echo flared up in the back of her mind.

**Misty. It's a beautiful name, don't you think?**

At the same time, shots fired in the real world, down the hall from where Ash sat, holding Misty to him. He didn't understand what was going on, thought for a moment that it was all over and that he was going to die too. But strangely, it didn't matter. He'd never felt like giving up. . . but now. . .

There was a hacking sound, and something heaved. Something in his arms.

May screamed loud, it was so unbelievable, leaping backwards. The Rockets jumped off of Brock, taking a stand next to Giovanni, but everyone began scattering soon after as an army of blue with shadows of red-orange, white, and black came flying down the halls. They were surrounded.

But more than that, they were _saved_.

Ash dropped his arms and stared at Misty's face, but she still wasn't moving, still pale, and again, so silent. He must have imagined it. It was hopeless anyway, wasn't it? Who had ever heard of somebody coming back from the dead?

A new war for survival broke out. Luckily, nobody thought to take one of them as a hostage. Rockets in gray and black uniforms fought tooth and nail, some to escape, and some to protect their leader. Giovanni, however, stood back and watched. He still held that gun in his hand, but he wasn't running or charging or anything. In fact, he looked like he wanted to break out into laughter. Ash briefly considered him mad. There was no way that, after everything they'd just gone through, he would stand back and let himself get captured by Officer Jenny. That was almost anti-climactic.

Ash stared too, glad that the gunfire he'd heard before seemed to have just been warning shots from the Viridian City police, trying to convince everyone that there was nowhere to run and hide. Shouts rung out anyway, scuffling that seemed to shatter the silence and it distracted all of them.

They were safe now. Nobody else would die, he thought, as a couple officers ran past him and began to inspect May and Brock. Suddenly, he blinked, realizing what that meant, then he twisted away from Misty - just for a moment, he told himself - and grabbed a hold of one of their pant legs, grappling and pulling them back towards him. This effectively got their attention.

"Please, check on Misty!" He shouted desperately. He didn't think anything could be done, of course, in fact he was sure nothing could be done. But somewhere inside of him he felt like they had to know, they had to try. She needed something, he knew it. And he had to help her get what she needed because he was the only one who could.

"I'm sorry, kid. Right now our priority is to get you all out of here. We'll check on the casualties in a second, so--"

"--No! No, Misty isn't one of them! She's a friend; she was my best friend! She was forced to. . . _He _killed her! You have to help! Now! Please!"

The man sighed. He had been told to leave the Rockets to the others while he and a few subordinates checked the prisoners for wounds and disease. But. . .

"Are you all okay? May I look at. . . your friend?" He made sure, waiting until Brock and May nodded silently, breathing a little heavier now because of the fact that everything was coming to an end, hiding their bruises and small cuts so that he wouldn't attempt to make them his main concern.

The stranger knelt down and Ash let go of Misty completely for the first time since her death. He inspected the gunshot before checking her throat for a pulse, counting down in his head, then placed an ear as close to her chest as possible.

"We're going to need the EMT's over here! Her left lung is collapsed, breath is thready, and she's bleeding out. She won't last long in these conditions. There's a strange smell coming from her stomach, it's either a long-term infection or something from whatever it was that lacerated her! Looks like a gunshot! Tell them to bring a gurney." He, too shouted back to Officer Jenny, who was leading them all.

She immediately removed a walkie-talkie from her waist and spoke into it, reiterating everything he had told her. But as she did that, in fact, as everything continued happening - Rockets lunging, hordes of policemen and Growlithe lunging _back_ - only one thing was clear in Ash's head.

Misty was. . . alive? Could it be possible?

"Tell them to bring two!" That voice yelled aloud again, and Ash turned swiftly to see that he'd let Misty be and returned to May's side. The younger girl was heaving and shaking horribly now, but he didn't know what that meant. "She's going into shock, and unresponsive!" But there was nothing else they could do for her now without access to medical supplies, so the man faced Misty once again and placed pressure on the hole in her stomach. And as Ash began to swerve back to his original position, complacent now that they would all assuredly survive this - even _Misty_, he breathed with the relief only that knowledge could grant him - he saw one more thing that drew his attention.

Brock removed his vest, worn and tattered after months of constant use, and rolled it up his arm and around his hand. Then he jumped to his feet and, before Ash could stop him he had sprung to Giovanni's side, ripping the small revolver from the man's hand while his interest was elsewhere. That being the case, the gun was removed easily and laid loosely in Brock's grip, carefully. Was he afraid that it would accidentally go off?

"W - what are you doing?" Ash asked, just as Giovanni himself was cuffed. The man was still smirking, still laughing as if none of this was real.

"It's evidence. It's what Misty's been looking for. This is it, what Giovanni's team made so long ago. It uses Electric-Acidic Bullets. Moreover, it has his prints on it." He folded the material of the vest over it, making sure that it wouldn't accidentally rub those same fingerprints off, before handing it to Ash. "You have to give it to them. I'll check on May." Then, with his back facing the raven-haired trainer, he added, "We've made it through this. And Misty's alive too. Let's focus on getting out of here now, and then we'll go home to our families."

OoO

Consciousness returned to Misty before she could handle it. The first and only thing she could do, as she realized she was in the process of being moved to a new location, was scream.

Everything hurt, every single part of her body was on fire, and she knew she could never contain herself from vocalizing just how bad it all was. She felt like her eyes would pop from her head, like her liver was being forcibly removed from her stomach, like her heart was beating so irratically, it would explode. She was shaking, everything was falling apart. Her hair fluttered against her cheeks as she stretched outward from the agony, and it lit her up into flames. God, just make it stop! Make everything stop!

Her movement ceased soon afterwards as the bright lights took over and her mouth sagged shut again. She realized that somebody must have given her something to sedate her, hopefully somebody who would not later kill her as well, and sleep returned.

And all she could think was that _this pain_ must have been the consequence her mother had told her of, because nothing else could ever even hope to be as bad as this.

Luckily, she did not dream while she slept, and continued to sleep for what seemed like an eternity. She didn't think she could ever sleep so peacefully, but. . .

Her eyes snapped open and she stared around, though she didn't actually turn her head for fear that she would feel it more than she'd like. Her lips were chapped, her limbs stiff. She didn't recognize that ceiling, or that smell. Or that beeping sound that was repeating irritatingly from somewhere to her right. Yet she felt no immediate sense of danger.

Tenderly, she picked up the dead weight that was in fact her left arm, and - taking a deep breath and a metaphorical plunge - pressed it to her torso, softly dropping it down until it came into contact with the hole that had been stitched nearly closed now. Of course, that was incredibly painful, so she tore the hand away and decided she would definitely never do that again.

Her mind was still fuzzy, but she did question herself as to why she hadn't used her right arm. She was right-handed after all, so it was nearly a reflex that she would use that limb to test what she was capable of and how healed her wound was. So, to check and see if she might have retained any damage there as well, she made a move to pull it in front of her face and see for herself. But it wouldn't budge, not more than a few inches anyway. With each tug, another syllable formed inside her head.

Why. . . would. . . it. . . not. . . move?

"Oh, God, you're awake." A voice said from about six meters away. It was muffled behind a hand, and there was the gasp of somebody who was shocked with bated breath. It turned out to be a nurse from the ICU ward. Misty hadn't known what she expected, but somehow, it hadn't been this. "Stop doing that, you'll sprain or break something. You've been cuffed to the bed to keep you from escaping."

". . . E - escaping. . . ?" She croaked back, insulted. She was handcuffed? She was a_ prisoner? _She should have known. . . She had just assumed that she would be treated a little more delicately after what she'd gone through, and with at least one person's testimony that she wasn't as bad as the clothes she'd been wearing back at the Team Rocket headquarters. It was hard to believe she could be so disappointed. She shouldn't expect anything from them, even if they had been friends for so long - even if Ash and Brock had cared about her dying, they had probably recovered from that after learning she had pulled through after all. But May, she had thought May might stick up for her, even if only because she couldn't seem to believe that Misty would do her wrong. "I - I won't. . . I mean, I wouldn't have. . ." She faltered long enough to clear her very dry throat.

"I'll get you some water. There are two guards stationed outside of your room if you try anything. Be that as it may, the leader of the unit who brought you here, Officer Jenny, says she knows you and your friends and is adamant that you be allowed visitors. One has been here for the past week or so, waiting for you to wake up. Did you want to see her?"

It was not hard to tell that this nurse wasn't on her side. It sounded as though she would have liked to leave Misty to die of dehydration, if nothing else. But Misty kept any negative words to herself. She didn't want to start something she couldn't undo, let alone something that would later be held against her.

Besides, May was there to see her. If she made the wrong move, the hospital administrators might take away her visitation rights despite Officer Jenny's requests. And she needed to talk to someone about everything, about anything. She wasn't sure what she would say though. She didn't think anybody would care to hear about her experiences with her mom, but she did wonder about some other things. How much time had passed, what she had missed while she'd been unconscious. All she remembered was falling softly, and then waking into a place filled with endless agony, and then sleep. How long had it taken for the Viridian City police force to arrive?

Not to mention she also had some questions about everybody else. Why was May the only one here? Where were Ash and Brock? And what had happened to their Pokemon, to Pikachu and Blaizekin and the rest of them? Had anybody else been hurt in the slightest between her discussion with her mother and her waking up in transit after being brought back to their world? She had never craved answers so much, never wished to be anywhere or anybody else as much as she did right--

"They told me you were awake. The nurses said I could, like, come right in. But I didn't think it would be such a hassle. Those officers, like, went through everything in my purse just to make sure I totally didn't bring anything to bust you out of here!" A nearly unfamiliar voice said with an undertone of laughter. Misty blinked. She couldn't believe that. It couldn't be. . .

"Daisy! Y - you. . . How? You're okay, too?" Misty croaked again, clearly ready to burst into tears. Her sister, Daisy! "How did you know I was here? How did you find me?"

"Lilly, Violet, and I. . . We stayed with a friend in the Orange Islands for a few months, and at some point I started, like, watching out for news about - well - anything, I guess. I wasn't sure what I would hear but. . . Well, when word gets out that a mass syndacate like Team Rocket has had its doors busted wide open and, like, the leader has been taken into custody and a secondary missing person's cases closed, it tends to gain some attention, even in other areas of the country. I knew you had something to do with it before they'd even contacted me, and rushed back right away."

Daisy took the seat besides Misty's bed and continued her story, "But, like, _right away _was too soon. They told me you had been shot and had just come out of two major surguries. You were, like, placed into a chemically-induced coma by the medication until your body could cope with the pain. And as soon as your brain activity returned to more than, like, fifty-eight percent, they cuffed you to your bed. You. . ." She broke off here, bit her lip, and tried to find the words, ". . . You worked for him. You were a member of Team Rocket?"

"I - I'm sorry." She couldn't face her sister, and definitely couldn't look her in the eyes, so she stared forward and blinked them tightly shut as a tear fell, then another, until she couldn't stop them. "I didn't want to, I swear. . . He told me he'd kill everyone, and threatened Ash, May, and Brock. I knew he wouldn't stop with them, either. He'd target you and your sisters just like he did the rest of them, just like he did your parents. . ."

"Our parents." The words escaped her, and she seemed numb to the wonder that should have inflicted her. She must have already known then. "They're dead."

"Y - yes. . . I'm sorry. . . God, I'm sorry!" Misty lashed out, and turned on her side, deeply regretting it and twisting again, heaving breath after having it knocked out of her from the searing pain she'd felt because of her stitches being strained. Daisy hurriedly grabbed her with one of her arms to try and sit her straight again. She had to get it out, though. Her sister needed to hear it, even if it would only hurt more right now. "H - he told me that one of the Rocket executives that found them got a little _overzealous _after learning that they'd sent the box from my mother back to Cerulean. He let loose his Tyranitar a - and it. . ." But did she need to know _that _part?

"Please. Tell me. It will tear me apart to hear it now, but I might die if I don't. Just, like, tell me. . ."

"Something was wrong with it; it was on some sort of steroid or something. . . It ripped them to pieces and then. . . _ate them_." Both of them felt their breath curl in the back of their throats, but all Misty had in her was sugar-water and Daisy hadn't eaten yet either. Perhaps it was a good thing.

Nevertheless, tears fell on both their parts, for both girls had lost their parents. They cried for minutes, throughout the time it took for the nurse to reappear with the water and leave them in an uncomfortable mess, for an hour or so, until they both needed to drink something or feel the bout of dehydration that Misty had been trying to avoid all along. And now Daisy could try and explain some things to her, for she still needed to know them, and nobody else seemed to be around to tell.

"They say that because the wound was self-inflicted at close range, the bullet went straight through. It managed to tear open a lung as it went, though." It was hard for her to get the words out, but she did anyway. "Unfortunately, there was something wrong with it when they, like, got to the emergency room. Something had infected the the area around where it nicked you and half of your lung had begun to. . . to disintigrate. They said is was some sort of toxic acid. They had to remove the lung and build something to replace it. It's experimental, so they also gave you a temporary pacer to, like, keep track of your heart during the next few months or so. Probably through the entire course of your physical therapy, just to be on the safe side."

Misty continued to drink her water while listening to everything that she was being told. It was as she had expected on some level then. Giovanni had spent those few months while she was under his care perfecting the EAB, and had wanted her to use it on one of her friends. . . What would have happened if she had done that instead of shooting herself with it? She could still remember how her mother had died, how miserable and painful, and that her organs had practically melted in a matter of minutes. . . She never could have lived with herself if she'd done that to somebody else. But, as that thought crossed her mind. . .

"How long has it been? Where is everybody else?"

"The coma lasted for, like, three weeks. Lilly and Violet are at the hotel, probably thinking of some way to avoid you now that everything is basically over. Your friends were sent home after they were checked out and deemed, like, relatively healthy. It _has _been almost a year since they last saw their parents and siblings. The youngest one, May I think her name was. . ."

"What about May?" God, please, please don't say something had happened to her!

"When they brought her here, she'd gone into shock and they couldn't phase her out of it for almost a week. She wasn't eating or sleeping at all, constantly shaking and mumbling to herself. She screamed a few times too, but they mostly kept her, like, under sedation so it never lasted long. When her parents came to retrieve her, they said they'd keep her under the highest level of care back in their hometown, but that she might not be back in time, like the others will be."

Misty gaped, not sure what she could say to that. The last time she'd seen May, obviously the girl had been terrified beyond measure and stressed out as well, but she had still been in her right mind. Just what had pushed her to the brink like that? What had caused her to become so faintly ill? But after those thoughts were forced to the back of her mind, Misty wrapped it around the final part of Daisy's statement and asked the obvious question.

"Back in time for what?"

"Like, the trial, of course. The League is pressing charges against Giovanni for the abuse of every Pokemon held in that base, and they're confirming with the country's government to include other charges like numerous accounts of breaking and entering and assault. They have to gain jurisdiction rights in Jhoto and the Orange Islands, and Hoenn too. Not to mention that your friends have the right to add kidnapping charges on top of that. He's going down for something, no doubt about it. There's no way he can, like, get away with it all now."

"Good." That horrible man would finally get what he deserved, what was coming to him. And she hoped it would last as long as the rest of his life, because he deserved to suffer as much as possible, just like he'd tried to force her to.

"Well, not really. You've also been accused of many of the same things, even the kidnapping. Since you were the one who committed the crime. Your friends tried to explain it away, but they're lacking a lot of evidence to support you having been forced to do anything. It all sounds like you had joined Team Rocket and acted of your own free will. Ash, like, even tried to get Giovanni on your assisted-attempted suicide, but when all they have is the testimony of three former prisoners, most of which are teenagers and one who can barely form full sentences now, there's not much that can be done."

After that, neither really had much else they could say. Misty could only think of what she had to face next. Her own persecution. And Daisy didn't have anything that would help matters as far as she knew. So they passed the time in silence, bracing themselves for acceptence of all of the news they'd just attained and all of their future hurdles. About two hours later, the same nurse from before reappeared in the doorway.

"I'm sorry, but visiting hours will end in about five minutes, and she's going to need her rest."

"She's right, actually." Daisy said, joining Misty in a dual yawn, "I'm sure that they'll be starting your physical therapy as soon as possible, probably tomorrow or the next day to get you accustomed to moving without much assistance with your stitches in. Not to mention, now that you're awake, the D.A. will be visiting you soon. And I'll, like, send word to Ash and Brock and see when they want to come back, too."

"Tell them it's no rush. . ." Misty murmured, partially from suddenly being so tired, and also because she was afraid that they wouldn't want to come by so soon anyway, if they didn't want her around anymore.

"Yeah, like those words will keep them away. . ." Daisy almost laughed at the thought before getting up and waving goodbye to the smaller woman in the bed. She didn't want to touch her in her fragile state, but didn't want to dismiss her without some semi-warm farewell. "I'll try and come by tomorrow afternoon if I've been able to contact them."

But Misty didn't hear, for she had already been lulled to sleep by the constant painkillers and the very same irritatable beeping she would undoubtedly continue to hear for the coming months.

The next day went as Daisy had told her it probably would. Misty's defense attorney showed up to introduce herself, asked a few questions about the situation involving Misty's shooting, and was even bold enough to ask why she had been found wearing a Team Rocket uniform when the EMT's had brought her to the hospital. Misty told her what she could, although she was still heavily medicated, and the woman left after stating that she would return within the week to explain to her what the crime scene unit had found in the underground Rocket base. If they found anything.

She missed Daisy's visit due to her first dose of physical therapy, though she decided afterwards that she would have much rather liked to talk to her sister more. It hurt a lot to walk, and each step, each attempt to simply stand on her feet, was sluggish due to the painkillers. Her knees felt like lead and everything above her hips was dead weight anymore. She was lucky, though. Her training while she was a member of Team Rocket meant that her physical health was otherwise at its peak, so any muscle damage was minimized because of it.

She didn't want to thank her father for anything, though, so she didn't dwell on it.

From the beginning, it was easy to tell that the administrative staff at Viridian General Hospital did not side with her, even after hearing her story. She was a member of Team Rocket, had probably done something to somebody they knew. But they were caught in a hypocratic crossfire, seeing as they had taken their oath to do no harm. And so they treated her anyway, and most with humility. She was grateful for it, even if she knew they were only pretending for the sake of their jobs.

But then came the moment she dreaded. She would have her first meeting with her friends since the time of her death. It had been almost another month since she'd woken up from her coma. What would they say to one another? What could she tell them that they would bother wanting to know? She agonized over what they might say to her, how they would react to her shift into survival after she'd shot herself. This was what she'd told her mother, what she wasn't sure she could handle. Betrayal and blazing gunfire had nothing on this, she knew, and prayed for their forgiveness.

She wanted to live, but knew it would be no use without them in her life.

"Misty." It was Brock. She and Brock were meeting eye to eye, but the older Pokemon trainer did not look disgusted at the sight of her, even laying uselessly in bed like she was. "You really did make it out of there." He gulped, not sure what else he could say to her about it.

"Um. . . Yeah."

"Ash will be here in a few minutes. He has to help his mother get upstairs." And another statement, eerily silent but still in existence, followed. _Tell us why you did what you did. Explain it to us so that we can know._

She nodded, whether it was in reply to the first part of his statement or the second. Now that they had reached the serenity that only safety could give them, she knew she could tell them everything and they would sit patiently and listen. But she still feared Ash's reaction to seeing her again, even as she was now. It was awkward enough with Brock. . . How bad would it be when the two of them finally came face to face again?

She didn't have to wait long. Brock took the seat Daisy had been in during her initial visit, but didn't speak anymore. He probably couldn't think of any safe words to say given the current circumstances. Everything that had happened was so strange, from their capture to Misty's death, to her rebirth. . . But it had also been very real. What could be said about that? As close as Misty and Brock were, they knew it was something they simply couldn't discuss alone between just the two of them. They needed the one thing that held their former group together. They needed. . .

"Jeez, why is it so stuffy in here? Open a window will you?"

_Ash._

He wandered in and Misty immediately felt a foreboding sense of dread, pulling the covers up to her face to avoid staring at him directly. She couldn't hold the stance for very long seeing as it stretched her body out, and it was hard to breathe when her face was drowned in cotton. But he had said something so unexpected, acted so nonchalant.

It was when she finally removed her blankets that she caught sight of his burden. Mrs. Ketchum was just in front of him, but she was sitting in a wheelchair.

"What happened to her?" Misty nearly shouted, hurriedly sitting up, and then she yelped, flinching from the pain. This was something she couldn't handle. And she didn't even know what had happened yet.

Ash sighed, and Misty noticed that her tone had startled the woman in front of her. Delia's son slowly approached her front and knelt down to eye level, smiling reassuredly.

"You remember meeting Misty now, right mom? She traveled with me for a few years when I was younger." He said, offhandedly scratching at an old bandage taped to his hand.

Mrs. Ketchum nodded, but turned to look at Misty again, still just as confused.

"You are. . . hungry? No. . ." She bit her lip, frustrated, her left hand clenched on the handrest of her seat while her right seemed to cling to her chest. ". . . Hungry. No, no! Hea. . . healthy?" She looked to her son for approval and he gave it with a nod. She in turn nodded to Misty, as if asking for her to answer.

"Healthy?" Mrs. Ketchum wondered why she was in the hospital. Ash hadn't told her? Well, he couldn't have kept everything to himself, could he? After going home for the first time in almost a year, she couldn't have let him get away without telling her _anything_. "I guess that. . . I'm on my way." She turned to her side, something she'd learned in her therapy to do without stretching too much, and leaned over the side of the mattress, edging a little closer to the older woman sitting before her. "Thanks for asking."

"She wanted to be here too, for when we would finally hear the story from your point of view." Ash said, pulling another chair up from across the room. He sat down next to his mother at the end of the bed. And waited.

"What? Now. . . ?" Suddenly she was anxious again, though maybe it sounded stupid. She knew what to tell them and she had expected that the first thing they'd want her to do after seeing her again would be to have her tell them. . . but now the moment was actually here and she was supposed to do what? Just act as if she wasn't going to be watching for their every change in visual expression? Still, she had thought that this would be more personal, more climactic.

"Yeah, there's no time like the present, is there?"

She agreed. And as she did, she couldn't help thinking of how curious it was that she felt so many juvenile emotions at the time. She was _nervous_? How could she afford to be? She was _scared_? What right did she have, when, for the last eleven months, she had known that if she were to have a second chance at being a friend to the people before her, it would be unbelievable? She didn't deserve it. But was she the only one acting as if it had never happened, even as they sat listening to her talk about it?

For talk, she did. She felt a strange lightheadedness drift over her as she started from the very beginning, the time when she'd been taken by those psychics in Rustboro City's park. She could still remember certain passages of the exact conversation she'd had with Giovanni after that, how he'd mocked the name she'd given herself after her mother's death, how he'd told her exactly what her mother had been hiding from him all that time. The EAB. The bullet that had killed her and would dare to enslave the world once it had been perfected.

"And then he showed me a picture of Ash, May, and Brock." It was as if two-thirds of the party weren't sitting before her and listening to every word she spoke. The only one she dared to see in the room was Mrs. Ketchum, and mostly because she wondered why the woman was behaving so strangely. It was as if _she _was sick, wasn't it? But she couldn't think on that. It was partly the guilt, because if something had happened that had disabled her so badly, it was probably something that had happened over the course of the past year, right? When Ash should have been around, when he could have heard and gone home. . . If he hadn't been trapped in an underground dungeon the whole time.

"Giovanni told me that he'd use the same poisonous concoction that had been created for the EAB to infect them. And he'd make me watch as they died. They would stare me in the eyes as a mad panic and terror and pain defeated them." She hadn't realized she'd started shaking until now. "I couldn't do it, I could barely stand to think of it, imagine it, if it had actually happened. . . I didn't doubt that he had the resources to find them all, even if I'd somehow been able to contact them and tell them to run. If nothing else, he would have offered Jessie, James, and Meowth a favor if they told him where they were in keeping tabs on them. And they wouldn't turn down a favor owed to them by the boss, right?

"But he gave me another choice, telling me that if I joined him and trained as hard as my body could take, if I showed that I wanted to become stronger because of him, he would let them live. He told me that I would have to be the one who brought them to him, though. I had to break their trust in me." Her hands met with the blankets now draped over her frame again and she clenched them into fists. "It was so fragile, just like I'd known since my mother died. I kept hitting it, one blow after another, until finally, with just the touch of a finger, I was able to make it shatter."

She held her head straight back, stretching her neck and hoping to keep the few tears she felt prickling at her eyelids where they were.

"But he thought too highly of me, and kept testing me, and I rebelled against him. He was trying to break me in but I kept seeing _them_ and I couldn't see past them. I wouldn't become the daughter that he wanted, the slave to his objectives. I was weak and wanted to be the person I had been when they trusted me. . . But I couldn't think of any way to repair it. Simply being there and letting them get away with whatever they wanted in the cell-block did no good. They acted as if I didn't exist, except for May, and I may have taken advantage of that. I know that my father did. He pretended to have her killed, to see if I would save her. I failed him when I did just that. Afterwards, when I confronted him about it, he attempted to reinforce his control over me.

"He pitted his Nidoking against Corsola, and there wasn't even a fair match between the two. Corsola was torn to pieces and all I could do was watch." And, with that, Misty revisited one of the lowest points of her life. So guilt-ridden, she had vomited everything inside of her after returning to her room. She kept remembering it, she kept seeing it and feeling it, and fighting a losing battle. Giovanni had trampled a life without even batting an eye, and with the blood all over her, she couldn't even think straight. She was losing her mind. She couldn't be that person after all, could she?

"It hit me suddenly, that he was the kind of man who could kill without much purpose or reason. And he would kill Ash, May, and Brock just the same. . . It didn't matter to him what promises he'd made me. If ever he got tired of watching them take up space, he would end them. The whole reason I'd brought them to him was because he said he'd let them live!" She shouted suddenly, and she was lost in the past for just a second, "They had to live!"

She heaved a breath, not sure she could continue. It was as if everything had just been said through one gulp of oxygen and she couldn't say anymore until her heart had caught up with her confession. It might have even made sense, considering one of her lungs was mechanical. Perhaps she needed to pace herself more. She could feel the beads of sweat coming to her brow and threatening to multiply. Goosebumps pickled her arms and her throat tightened. She was such a mess.

"By killing Corsola, he retained the last bit of proof that I had connecting him to the EAB. It was the experimental bullet that had killed my mom so many years ago." She didn't want to look at them to see their reactions to that. Surely they knew what it meant. "I had used some leftover water from Celebi's Spring to tear him open." She wanted to puke again, but had not been eating much recently, so there wasn't anything left undigested that would come back up. "Corsola let me do that to him. . . and I placed the bullet inside. It was safe. And I swore I would keep Corsole safe, too. . . That's why, when I was taken from Rustboro by those psychics, I sent him back to the PokeCenter. But Ash brought him when they came to Viridian to try and rescue me."

She had lost her temper then, accusing him of being so stupid though he obviously had no idea what he'd done wrong. Thinking back on it, there had been such a feeling of nostalgia that she could barely control herself at the time. God forbid. . . but it had felt so _good_. To yell at him, fight with him, act as if they weren't in the middle of this war. She felt so at home with him around that it tore her apart to know she couldn't experience that kind of thing anymore.

"But then Corsola was dead and I knew I couldn't keep pretending to be so distant. I had nothing left to fight back with, I felt no personal gain by standing at my father's side, so I invested my efforts in helping Ash and everyone escape him instead. I even asked for outside help; Jessie, James, and Meowth agreed because, after helping them get to Viridian, they'd been deserted by Giovanni. He wanted nothing to do with them anymore. And they wanted to get back at him for it. Their motive was pure vindiction, but I harbored no ill will for it. After all, in my position I had no right to pick and choose my allies, did I?

"May and I worked together for weeks, and Ash and Brock listened in but had barely anything to say. I guess that. . . despite her brave front, May's psyche was breaking little by little throughout it all. She agreed to behave well, remain silent, and even act like she hated me, to try and convince everyone who was on guard duty that she held no faith in me either, just like the others. And then came the night that we would make our move."

She explained about their journey to the excess destinations in other parts of the base, but refrained from asking questions about, well, anything that would distract from her story. She was still curious, though. What had happened to their Pokemon? Come to think of it, as she talked about them, she couldn't help wondering, what had happened to Jessie, James, and Meowth? At the same time, she couldn't believe that nobody had interrupted her to ask questions of their own. Perhaps there was nothing to ask. Maybe they'd already dictated their judgment. Or maybe they were holding out until the end. She knew she shouldn't think so positively.

But then came their downfall. As they had approached the exit of the base, and the adrenaline was running high, it became painfully obvious that things had been going too well. It all ended at once. In a series of flashing lights, the seizure of events mulled over again inside her head.

_"Be a better person, Aurora dear, and kill one of the three before you that keep pulling you back to that life you chose to leave behind. I daresay you won't be able to return once you've ended a life or two and soiled your hands in _real _blood."_

The blood was pounding, she couldn't see straight. And all she could think of was how she had _failed _them all again. How could she? She had promised to get them out of this and now. . .

The gun was in her hand.

She had to choose who would die.

She could never be the person she wanted to be.

It all came down to the blood running through her veins.

She was her father's slave to his ambitions. The future leader of Team Rocket. And she would kill somebody that night, soil her hands in _real blood_, as that man had put it. Who deserved this more? The one she cared for the least. . . ? Or the one she loved the most?

_"Do it, do it now. . . ! I'm tired of words, Aurora, as is everyone else! Action is what causes change; words will never mean anything to anyone!" _But she had wasted time apoligizing even though it did no good.

_Bang! _One shot and all of the colors of the world blurred together. A sudden sense of all-knowing enveloped her as she stared around the dungeon still and watched everyone's reactions. May heaving breath and shaking her shoulder, as if it was all a bad joke. Brock attempting to cave in the floor below with his stare alone. Ash holding her close and. . . and apologizing, as if he could have prevented it. She couldn't see it, and yet it was all there.

What did that mean? Had she not died after all? She had thought that it was over all at once, that she had gone immediately. But these visions were not the ones from that world beyond this world, were they? They were real, they were from the sights of somebody who had still been there, but they were definitely her own eyes she was staring out of. Dare she say that. . . she simply recognized them, didn't she? But her heart raced, gaining speed that couldn't have been healthy, and then the vision began. It was her mother, and her voice, and the choice that she had to make.

And now, facing this trial, she couldn't say for sure which experience had been real to her at the time. Perhaps her life had flashed before her eyes, as the cliche usually went. Had she been a victim to it as well?

Nevertheless, everything was out in the open now, and not a moment too soon, because she wasn't sure she could think clearly enough to decipher her epiphany. All that had happened, that she had felt uncomfortable sharing, everything about her mother. . . might have been in her head anyway. But, if she had been shot with the EAB, how else could she have survived? It was nothing short of a miracle, was it?

A hand suddenly clamped around her ankle and she jumped, regretting it instantly of course, but not enough to stop her from slowly inching herself into an upright position too who it was.

"Mrs. Ketchum?"

The woman was having trouble finding words, but she didn't ask for assistance either.

". . . It's okay. You're okay. Ashy says. . . you'll be good. No, no. . . Smiley. Ashy says you will be smiley." And she smiled too, as if making an example of herself.

"Brock," Ash spoke suddenly for the first time since he'd entered the room, "can you take my mom to the cafeteria? She hasn't had lunch yet."

Brock did so silently, only looking Misty in the eyes for a moment. It wasn't enough to gauge where he stood with her, but she was too scared to ask him herself. So the two of them went, and then it was just her and Ash, alone in the room.

"So, Mi - Aurora. . ." His brow creased at the unfamiliar name.

"Call me Misty." And another flashback occured, lasting for only a second, thank goodness.

"_What do you want from me, Giovanni? And call me Misty; everyone does."_

"Are you sure that's okay?"

"What's wrong with your mom?" She asked, not wasting any time on stupid questions. He could have looked insulted that she would word it the way she did, but he didn't want to waste any time either. And whether she deserved to know, or he wanted her to feel the guilt of how her actions had effected other people, because he told her. Just in case she hadn't considered it a possibility.

". . . After I went a few months without contacting her in any way, and then the Hoenn League took place and I wasn't featured in the televised tournament, she got scared. She started calling everyone she knew who might have seen me or heard from me recently, but nobody knew anything. She even put Professor Oak on alert. The only ones who could say they knew anything about my whereabouts were May's parents, but the last they knew of it, you had told them you were going to join me. There didn't seem to be anything suspicious about that. And nobody thought to ask Max about his thoughts until it was too late. All he could say was that you were eager for him to decide that he should journey without us, like you were scared for him or something.

"Soon she was calling Professor Oak everyday to ask if he'd heard from us. She was panicked of course that something horrible had happened to her only son and his friends. There was an open investigation that led to the blimp left abandoned in Viridian Forest. She couldn't believe I had been so close and yet I still hadn't come to see her or tell her anything. In fact, because we were teleported underground, the trail went cold almost immediately after that discovery. There was nothing left to be done, and the case remained open.

"It's very rare for a group of trainers to disappear randomly, even in the world that we live in. Did you know that? They continued accepting tips on it even months into our captivity. In fact, when you'd called the Viridian City hotline, and they asked for any available information on that missing person's case. . . That was about us. Mom wouldn't let them forget about it.

"But in the process of looking constantly for us, she forgot to take care of herself. It took Professor Oak three days to realize he hadn't heard form her recently, and he went to the house to check up on her. She was collapsed in the upstairs hallway, barely conscious. She'd suffered a stroke."

Misty's eyes widened, not knowing what to say to that. _She _had caused that. _She _had done that. Mrs. Ketchum was such a nice woman, though Misty had only met her a few times. There were a few people she knew for certain who hadn't deserved to have anything bad ever happen to them, and she had been at the top of the list. Next to her son, of all people. And despite all of those thoughts, her reaction was the one thing that could only make it all worse.

"Heh."

She laughed.

_She laughed. . . ?_

But in her head, it was all making sense now. Of course this would happen! All she wanted was to be forgiven, to have a second chance, to look Ash in the eye and know that she wouldn't be equal to that which he disgusted more than all else. She wanted to go back to a time when none of this had occurred, when she could have befriended May outside of the horror they'd faced, when she could have kept Brock from harassing a beautiful girl. She wanted to train with her surrogate family, her sisters, and learn how to run the Gym, at the same time teaching them what they needed to know to be successful.

In her dreamy, alternate timeline, she wanted to grow up knowing a boy, _this _boy. She would have fallen in love with him and they would have faced the ordinary hardships that lovers face. . . Now, she wasn't even sure she could live to see another sunny day outside of the penitentiary because _she _was the criminal. She had done him wrong, had done so many people just as wrong. But this was Ash.

The funny thing was that this hurt a lot more knowing he was her best friend. As much as she loved him beyond that, she would lose both possible relationships with him by turning out to be the way she had.

"What does that mean?" He asked, and she blinked, hardly daring to believe that he would bother asking. As if he wanted to know, even as if he wouldn't judge her until she'd answered him.

"I just find it ridiculously poetic that even when that nightmare is over, we still can't find our dreams again." Because of her. She gulped back the want to disappear entirely but it didn't seem to work. If ever there was a time to sink into the sheets of her bed and vanish without a doubt, it would be now. She couldn't stand this awkward crossing they'd come to pass.

"Is it still about you?"

"Huh?"

". . . I would have liked to be there for my mom when it happened. I mean, who knows if it would have happened if I hadn't gone missing anyway, because we can never be sure, can we? She gives a lot, and always kept herself busy. I'm sure there are things unrelated to what happened to us that could have attributed to her stroke."

"I don't want to be excused for it, Ash. Just tell me what you really want to tell me."

His brow creased further, and it made it seem like his eyes would vanish underneath it. What had he expected? If she had said anything less, he wouldn't have been able to confront her on the same level, he knew. The reason he was sitting there before her was because he was already aware of how much she blamed herself. If nothing else, the expressions that had torn through her while she explained her side of the story to them before had been everything he needed, right?

"I wanted to blame you for everything. You sought us out and dragged us into your mess, knowing full-well that we couldn't turn you down. You were a friend, after all. But then you mysteriously showed up just to throw that away, you attacked us and took away our Pokemon, and continued to kick me while I was down. Not only that, but you worked for Team Rocket, you hunted other innocent trainers, stole Pokemon, you burned down at least one PokeCenter while in the process of cleaning up your dirty work. And you nearly destroyed my family. My mom. . . Because it took so long for her to be found, because it was too late for the surgeons to go in and try to repair the damage caused by the blood clot, she will suffer permenant loss of function to the right side of her body.

"But she has learned to get by. She moved in with Professor Oak after it happened and continued with daily outpatient physical and speech therapy. The aphasia probably won't go away completely, and probably not for a long time, but she. . . Well," he cleared his throat before continuing, "she's a pretty good judge of character, isn't she? You told her everything, and she's forgiven you even after what happened to _her_."

She didn't think there was a way to swallow the lump in her throat other than to have it removed by somebody else. But she got to it eventually, though the force of holding back the urge to cry made it very hard to breathe throughout.

"And who am I to do any different?" He asked her then. "I told you I wanted to blame you, and for a while there I excused my conscience enough to do that. But everytime I saw you was hard and everytime I listened to you or heard others talk - mostly May - I wanted to say I believed in you too. How could I, though? Through everything that your father did, you never once believed in _us _enough to tell us the truth from the beginning. What sincerely made you doubt that we could handle ourselves? You asked for our help in taking him down, then decided on your own that our help wouldn't be enough. Haven't I proven myself to you? Not even as the guy who saves the day most of the time, but as your best friend.

"The truth is I couldn't do it for long. I couldn't dismiss you. You weren't some random Rocket grunt, you were my best friend. At least, you had been somewhere along the way. At some point it wasn't about blaming you or forgiving you. . . Unfortunately, it all came down to my ego. I wasn't enough to keep you safe, I wasn't enough for you to have faith in, and you turned your back on me. At the same time I decided that I wouldn't face you again until you apologized enough."

Misty blinked again. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Ash was telling her that she wasn't the only one to blame? In fact, it almost sounded like he was saying that _he. . ._

"I kept my vow of silence all through the time you were planning your escape with May. And even when the time came to make our move, I was too stubborn to say anything to you. You were scared at the time, too, weren't you? When you let us all out and May was groping at you in thanks. . . You were trying to be a rock, but really you weren't sure what we were thinking and if you could help us make it out alive."

She hated that he was reading her, like she was the page-turner. Those feelings. . . She had thought they'd been locked securely away so that nobody would ever see them. No one was supposed to know that she had repeatedly had to tell herself that night to keep a strong vigilance, she had to make it, she had to get them out. She couldn't fail them.

"But you died and I never got the chance to tell you anything, like how I had wanted so much to forgive you. You were my best friend. And you died telling me how you were sorry and how you knew you'd caused us a lot of trouble - which is a bit misleading, don't you think? I mean, causing trouble is getting us lost on the way to my next Gym match. What _you _did. . ." She flinched from the tone he'd suddenly taken, and he probably noticed, because it softened as he went on, ". . . What you did was take on this great burden alone. I trusted you more than anybody else and you tossed it aside because that bastard said he would kill us if you didn't."

Of course she hadn't, not really. It wasn't possible for her to just turn away like that, not on a moment's notice. To truly break that tie, years would have to be sacrificed, not to mention Ash himself would probably have to turn out to be a different person than the one she knew, wouldn't he? Because what they had was something far deeper than flesh bonds. They had known each other for years, gained access to one another's thoughts and faults, actions and reactions.

"I thought so." He held up a fist as though securely reinforcing the statement. But instead she once again took notice of the bandage on the upper side of that fist. "Which is why I told them I would give you a blood transfusion."

She stared. And stared. It was as if his words had gone straight over her head. What was that he had said? He had done _what _for her?

"You. . . That's. . ." Why was she turning red in the face? This was definitely not the time. But as it finally hit her all at once, she couldn't help hearing her own thoughts echo continuously inside of her, reverberating louder and louder. Her heart pounded just a little bit.

"Yeah, it was pretty bad. When they got here, they didn't know what to do with all of your bloodloss. There was no Misty Waterflower on file, and even though we could tell them that you had family at the Cerulean Gym, there was nobody there to answer the calls made by the hospital staff. Luckily, I learned one good thing from Team Rocket.

"I'm blood type, O negative. That makes me universal. I can donate blood to anyone, no matter what their bloodtype is. So I told them I'd give some of my blood to you." He seemed really pleased with himself too, she couldn't help but notice.

The thoughts were louder than ever before, as well as the memory that floated to the surface of her being.

_"Because, although you are better - your _blood _is better - you must be a thoughtful, justified leader who does not allow your followers to know that you think that way, right?"_

Her father had thought that being his daughter would cause her to excell. She was greater than everyone else, superior, because he was within her. And now so was Ash. Ash's blood circulated her veins and pumped to her heart and through to the other parts of her body. Finally she could say that, yes, her blood was better. And another thing came to her. . .

Some things could only be done for those you cared for. Giving blood? That was definitely one of them.

"I still ask myself if I was right about you, Misty. You are that person after all, weren't you? Your father couldn't tarnish you like he wanted to do, could he?" He faltered for a moment, and was suddenly nervous. Perhaps he felt like he was revealing too much, or perhaps it wasn't enough for him. But for her. . . it was more than enough, obviously so much more.

He had not forgiven her yet, but he wanted to. It was because of how much they knew about each other and how long that he'd been the most traumatized by what she'd done to them. She was sure he'd asked himself about why he couldn't forgive her, as much as he'd asked himself why he couldn't trust her anymore from the start of it all. But it all came down to what she had pretended didn't exist. They didn't like each other. They couldn't love each other. It was impossible for them to understand one another's thoughts and reasons for being who they were because of how different they were from the very basis of their being. But. . .

But the battle was over. She had won. A new challenge awaited them, but surely they would make it through. She knew who she was now, and knew she could tell them just as well.

"Don't call him my father. I have no relationship with that man, and he has nothing to do with me." And Ash found he could ask no more questions about it. The topic was closed.

OoO

As soon as Misty was healthy enough to have her stitches removed, as soon as she could walk without having to hold onto somebody or something, she was told she had to go to her arrainment at the courthouse in Celadon.

"This case has a lot of publicity, obviously because of who's being charged. And Celadon is the city with the best security for high profile cases." Her attourney, Alyssa, told her while they were boarding the train with local authorities in toe. Mrs. Ketchum had returned to Pallet with Professor Oak, and Ash and Brock, Daisy, and her other sisters were forced to board another carriage because of her criminal status. "Giovanni was moved to the penitentiary there almost a month ago. Apparently Officer Jenny fears that some of the Rockets who had escaped or who weren't on the base at the time of his capture might try and get him out."

She was released on her own recognizance the same afternoon, and joined everyone in renting a few rooms at a local inn. And there, she was greeted with a surprise.

"P. . . Pikachu! Is that really you?" She nearly squealed, and the electric rodent ran to embrace her almost instantly for which she was grateful. If he had blamed her too, what would she do? Luckily, he immediately licked at her nose to show he still loved her just as much as he had before. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to do that. . . How did you possibly. . . ? You made it out without being experimented on?" She could barely keep herself together. Nobody had even tried to tell her what had happened to their Pokemon and she had assumed the worst, even thought to ask for herself because she deserved to know. She needed to know what else she had done to destroy her relationships with these people.

"Pikachupi! Pika pikachu!"

"He says he fought tooth and nail at first, and eventually they just gave up on him because, well, what else could they do? Apparently the first lab they unleashed him in was destroyed by the resulting _Thunderbolt. _They assumed he'd turned rabid after what happened to his trainer and left him alone, but made sure he was held as captive as possible so he couldn't do them anymore harm. They kept him drugged because they thought he'd go manic if he was free for too long." Ash told her, and it was hard to read how he felt about it judging only by his tone of voice.

"What about the others, though?" She asked bluntly, and bit her lip afterwards. That was a little too forward, wasn't it?

But neither Ash or Brock spoke up after that. And she knew it meant that they'd suffered serious losses. Eventually she pried the truth out of them, though it took awhile. She wondered if they were trying to protect her, but for what reason would she be worthy of that?

Craudant had to be "put down" after Ash had retrieved him. They had medicated him so thoroughly and forced him to battle with terrain and other types that he couldn't handle for too long. The first time Ash had let him out of his Pokeball, he had tried to disconnect the closest arm from the rest of his body. After weeks of attempted reprogramming, Professor Oak told him there was no choice but to give up. This Pokemon was a danger to himself, and those around him.

But he wasn't the only one. Brock had one Pokemon left now; his Crobat. The only way he had withstood the horrors of experimentation was thanks to his _Supersonic_. He was so suspicious of all trainers who weren't his master or friends of his master that he automatically used it on oncoming threats. This meant that any of Giovanni's scientists that had wanted to do anything to him grew lethargic and confused if they even got too close.

Most of May's Pokemon had remained unscathed, fortunately, though her Blaizeken had suffered flesh deformities due to the injections Team Rocket had chosen to play around with. It didn't matter much though, seeing as she was too paranoid to continue training them. Now they lived with Professor Birch down the road from her house, sometimes being loaned to Norman to use during Gym battles. Her parents often had her watch those battles in fact, to see if they ignited the fire in her that had made her want to become a Pokemon Coordinator, but to no avail.

"And Jessie, James, and Meowth?" Misty had worked up the courage to ask for the first time.

"Nobody knows what happened to them. They were there up until the time you shot yourself. But we were all distracted by that obviously, and I think when Officer Jenny's unit stormed the headquarters, they used it to their advantage and snuck off." Ash started.

"We tried searching, mostly containing to the Viridian City limits, but they didn't try to find us. We figured that was enough of a message in itself. But they won't come back now, will they? Not when Giovanni's finally been taken down. They wouldn't risk being caught and sent to prison too. They'd already failed him while they were free to do as they pleased. If they were all forced into close quarters together, who knows what would happen?" Brock said next.

"Plus James was still hurt. I think that Jessie had probably located a place for them to stay, to start over, and you know her. She won't lose the control she has on her partners, not if she can help it. So she probably made them run as soon as they could to that place."

_Lucky them_, Misty found herself thinking as Pikachu squirmed in her lap. How many times had she wished that she could find a way to escape every bit of reality she'd had to suffer through over the course of the past year? And to be able to convince Ash and Brock and May, and everyone, that it had all been in their heads was such a flight of fantasy it made her head spin.

For she knew it wouldn't be okay. Everything they'd done, everything they'd gone through, had definitely happened. They couldn't pretend that it hadn't no matter how much she wanted it. All they could do was get by on her honesty, hope that saving her from herself had been the right call, and pray that she became a better person for it. And she would, she told herself. Because this was the second chance that she had accepted, that her mother had given her, that Ash had cried for.

Hadn't he? He was acting distant now, rather reminiscent of that time in Rustboro after she'd initially told them all about being Giovanni's daughter and his wish to take her with him. But he had all the reason in the world to behave that way. He had done what he could to ensure she lived even though it was the last thing she knew she deserved, and she couldn't help thinking that maybe _that _was why she'd been given that second chance in the end. But she shouldn't press her luck. She'd already decided to gratefully accept whatever they could afford to give her.

And yet the romantic in her, the young girl who had fallen in love with her best friend far before all of this had taken place, wondered sometimes if he'd really cried for her after she'd died. He'd wasted tears on her, he'd apologized to her, said he'd broken a promise that he'd wanted to keep more than anything at some point, though he'd lost the meaning in that due to her betrayal. But her death had shaken him, and he'd remembered how it felt to want to keep her safe. He'd wanted to be there as the shoulder she could cry on.

Well, at least that was how she'd interpretted it.

She slept alone that night, also thanks to her criminal status. Civilians were barely allowed in the same wing as her, let alone the same room. But she slept soundly, and that was saying something. For the first time since she'd started her fight against Giovanni, she dreamt, and didn't wake in a cold sweat because of it.

Misty found that she had a few supporters in the courthouse, of course wittled down to her friends and surrogate family. But it was enough for her to believe that she was not alone everywhere she went.

But then something unexpected happened. Her seperate trial, only consisting of use of an illegal firearm, arson, and three kidnapping charges, was added to.

_Murder._

Giovanni must have told his attourney about what she'd done in Cerulean. And his attourney must have been compelled to bring it to the attention of the prosecutor. Apparently, if her father was going down, he was going to take her with him. And how.

Questions met her inside and out because of it. Cameras and dirty looks, crude signs both on paper and via hand gestures, followed her everywhere. Nobody seemed to understand that she'd done it to save herself. And what was worse was that it was an unsolved case, nobody else had been accused, so she was the only one to take the fall. And she was hardpressed to deny any of it, considering - well - she _had _done it.

What was worse was the newfound expression Ash and Brock, and her sisters couldn't help giving her after they heard. She hadn't told anyone but May about what happened in Cerulean beyond the word _attack_, mostly because going any further would also bring up her attempted rape. They were scared of her, of what she was capable of. This was a whole new level of horror.

Whatever the circumstances, nobody could see a reason in killing another person. In fact, before Misty had done it, she would have agreed. It probably came down to the worst she'd faced on a daily basis being Team Rocket's flunkies and angry trainers who gave her the finger after a sore loss, but she couldn't see why somebody had to die either.

Until _she _had almost died that night.

She tried to reiterate the facts to her lawyer, having everyone else in the room so as not to repeat herself. Alyssa was adamant about her being honest, so she told them everything, even what only May had known before that day. And slowly those scared faces turned into understanding. None who listened told her that they would have done the same, but somehow she felt like they were on her side again, just a little bit.

Still, they had to meet the burden of proof for self-defense, which was a challenge in itself after all of the time that had passed.

"Nobody witnessed the attack?" Alyssa asked her cryptically. This was going to make her job nearly impossible. Even _she _wasn't sure of her client's innocence. If she wasn't convinced, how could a jury be without any form of evidence?

"No. It was the dead of night, and Cerulean isn't like Saffron or Celadon. Businesses are closed by ten, and most residential lights out by eleven."

"You didn't file a report? Even after you had officially closed down the Gym and gone to the Hoenn region?"

Misty pursed her lips. She hadn't even thought of it. In truth, she had not wanted to waste time there, and not only that, but obviously going to the police in her hometown would have trapped her from the beginning. Of _course _she'd killed those men after what they were trying to do to her! But telling somebody that would have meant a confession, and a trial, which did not bode well with her at the time. She just had to tell her sisters to get to somewhere safe, and then run to her friends, who she prayed would help her. She had panicked because the phrase had caught up to her in that moment.

_You don't know what you're capable of until you face the situation._

"No. I didn't." She answered simply. Why did she already feel like she was on trial?

"You run the Gym with your sisters. None of them would have filed the report in your place when they went back?"

"No. I told them not to go back to that place. I recently learned that," and here, she looked at Daisy, who nodded, "they have been staying with a friend in the Orange Islands. Do you need their information?"

"I'm sure I will at some point, yes. . ." She drifted off for a moment, scribbling a note on the pad she always seemed to carry with her. And then she began to irritatingly tap her pen against the paper, lost in thought. ". . . So you're telling me that, since the time of your departure from the Cerulean Gym, nobody would have gone inside? No miscellaneous trainer, no maintenence team? _Nobody_?"

When Misty shook her head yet again, clutching one arm behind her back with the other, Alyssa finally grinned, acting as if they'd caught a break.

"Fabulous. If what you've told me is true down to the last detail, then we're not out of the game just yet. Let me make a few phone calls. You go get some lunch and I'll contact you again within the next few days."

And she did. As it turned out, everything that had happened that night in the Gym became painfully obvious beyond Misty's story based on the photographs taken by the officers who had followed up on Alyssa's tip and checked out the Gym themselves. The safe that the Pokemon and the Gym funds had been in was torn open and emptied, though only Misty's prints were on it. But since she had been ordered to do it, it played out relatively well when compared to reasonable doubt. The kicker though, was the blood spatter that ran everywhere from her room to the lobby to the Gym arena. DNA proved it was hers, and the photographs proved there had been a struggle. More so than even that was the broken lock on the back maintenence door, the one that the Rockets had destroyed to get inside. Misty hadn't even been aware of it at the time, only bothering to check the front doors and be on her way.

Finally things were going her way. She won the case because of the evidence her lawyer had taken the time to find, that which she hadn't even realized existed. What was more was that, though Giovanni had been proven innocent in most of the breaking and entering charges, he had been found guilty on the kidnappings. Misty had gotten lucky, the verdict from her murder charges and the case file being allowed in the trial for her own kidnapping charges. Not to mention a few recorded conversations and videos found in the abandoned Team Rocket base that hadn't been deleted from the mainframe computer in time.

Giovanni was in control down to the last detail, but did not seem to realize that keeping such track of events that he was not around to witness himself could lead to his own undoing. Such conversations included his first meeting with Misty - (which was a shock for her, since she had not been paying such attention at the time) - and of course the video of her final discussion with him when he had told her the mission to take her friends captive, and even the one of her actually sitting with her friends. The one that depicted her losing her temper after Ash told her he'd brought Corsola to her.

But the best one (and the most gruesome by far) was the one that contained the feed of Corsola's battle against Nidoking. Nobody could stare for very long at the mess of an aftermath that existed when the battle had finished.

Every video had contained some damage to the hosting file, but had been mostly decrypted and repaired by the technology team in the Saffron forensics labs.

"Ballistics are back on the gun your friend retrieved from the underground Viridian base." Alyssa told her at another time and place. "And I think you're going to like what I have to say. As it turns out, the model is a twenty-two millimeter Glock revolver, foreign to American personal and duty sidearm. But it was modified, suited only for a clip of unknown bullets. I assume that these," and here she held up a plastic bag weighed down by the very thing that Misty had become so familiar with over the course of the past year, "are the Electric-Acidic Bullets you were telling me about. On the side is the Team Rocket logo, and upon inspection, the lab was able to find trace amounts of poison and a thin needle for injection at the tip." She sighed here, then put the bag away again, "It's nasty stuff, but it's evidence. Not only will he be charged with possession of weapons of mass destruction, but in Japan, even holding onto a firearm is a serious offense. The fact that Officer Jenny's unit found almost one thousand of these very models, all modified and loaded with the same clips. . . Well, it doesn't get much better for us than that.

"I want to put you on the stand so that you can tell your story. You do have to realize that if or when they cross-examine you, you must answer their questions. But I think that your conscience will demolish any chance he has at being acquitted due to reasonable doubt. If you're alright with it, I'll add you to the witness log."

Misty gulped. She knew what that meant: having to see Giovanni again. But she would be in a crowded courtroom surrounded by people. What could he do to her there, other than stare her down? And she had never been one to back down because she was looked at in a particular way, had she? Not even when he was the one doing it. And she felt she owed it to herself, to her mother, because telling the _entire _story meant telling how her mother had died, what Misty had done in order to hide herself from her father. What she had done to try and save everyone else - selling her soul. If they would listen to her throughout all of that. . . then she might stand a chance against him. They would believe _her _and he would have nothing. It took only a moment for her to reach her decision.

"I'll do it."

Things moved fast from the time she walked away from her own trial through the time she approached Giovanni's for the last time. She had not wavered in her speech while depicting everything that had happened since she'd been eight years old. Well, everything that pertained to that man's charges. She had caught eyes with a few jury members while speaking, but had gotten no sense on where they stood. She still wondered if they thought as little of her as they did him. They were the same flesh and blood, and she had worked for him. She was no good either.

But she constantly reminded herself of what Ash had done for her. He had given her _his _blood. And though she figured it hadn't meant much to him, though she told herself he would have done it for almost anyone and - on a scientific level - that blood had probably been replaced by her own once again at this point. . . She felt renewed by the knowledge. She couldn't be the same as Giovanni. By now she had aged with a good conscience since her youth, and she was filled with parts of other good people. Ash's blood, May's positive thinking, Brock's logic, Delia's and Daisy's motherly instincts. She couldn't still be related to him, not really.

And finally came the day she had been dreaming of. Giovanni's conviction. Would he make it out, or would he burn at the stake?

Was there really any doubt?

A few months passed and Giovanni's sentencing was coming soon. Misty's birthday came, followed by May's. They tried to call her and wish her a happy one, but she wouldn't talk to them. Nevertheless, Misty came face-to-face with Caroline and Norman for the first time in a year.

She wasn't able to look them in the eye, even though they had nothing but generic, kind words for her. She had heard it all before. It was because they were too nice to say anything less to her. Apparently Ash's birthday had come around too, during her coma. But when she asked if he'd done anything - if he'd still _like _to do anything - he just shook his head. Of course he wouldn't. Not with her. Why would he want to? She was a traitor, she barely constituted his attention anymore, especially now since their obligation to be around her was over.

After all, Team Rocket was mostly disbanded other than a few rogue soldiers yet to be accounted for. Alyssa had made her case and won. They were winding down to the end of the battle, during which time they would learn how long Giovanni would be put away. Misty wondered what would happen next. Surely Ash would go home to his mom? Brock would probably check on his family too, and decide if he wanted to give up training to be a Breeder. She figured that much, but she didn't want to ask. If they said they were leaving, she would probably take it badly. But worse than that was that it would probably show on her face. If that happened, would they pity her? Even enough to stay by her side a little bit longer?

Many things had happened when revealing the truth about herself and facing the last moments of the war inside her head, but the strangest so far had been her sisters. Daisy had always loved her just enough no matter what, and she got by on it alone. But Lilly and Violet. . . They were _talking _to her, making an effort to socialize. They had visited a few times, and a few times only, but she knew that they were already well-aware of what had happened to their parents. So they weren't there to ask her questions then. But why else would they come?

They were trying to make amends? They wanted her around? They understood her a little better after all of the stories they'd heard from her? God, she hoped so.

"Hey, Misty, pass the remote."

She did, tossing it carefully into Lilly's arms. And then her older sister began flipping through the hundred or so channels available on the hotel's television. T.V. drama, breaking news story, comedy skit series, infomercial, breaking news story, T.V. drama, soap opera, sitcom, breaking news story, more on the same breaking news story. . .

"Wow, something big must have, like, happened. . ." Daisy murmured to herself, looking around at the other girls in the room and asking herself if they were just as curious as she was about what that something was.

Apparently not, as Lilly settled for the soap opera, and shed no tears over missing whatever breaking news had made it onto about five different networks, all of which were live at location.

Misty blinked for just a moment. Before they had flipped to another program, she was able to get a glimpse of where the news had taken place. She told herself she'd never seen that area before, but something tugged at her. Why did it still look so familiar?

The phone rang, but she wasn't paying attention. If she thought about it hard enough, she should remember. After all, she'd only been to a few places recently, even after she'd been freed from her accused crimes. She squinted, rubbing at her eyelids as if that would increase the range of vision in her imagination as she thought back on it.

"M - Misty. . . the phone. It's for you." Violet told her, handing her the receiver. Misty nearly jumped from her skin. She hadn't even realized that it had been answered. Still, she held it to her lap, because she was sure she knew that place, and yet she didn't. . . But she _did_. . . even though she'd never been there herself.

Violet whispered into Daisy's ear, and the blond's eyes widened in what could only be assumed was horror.

"Misty. You have to answer it." She said without even a hint of laughter. Either they were pulling a really good joke right now, or it was serious.

But just as she'd decided to obey their wishes, she heard the beep-beep of a line that had disconnected, the thundering footfall of hallway traffic. Somebody was in a hurry to get somewhere. And that somewhere was. . .

There was a rushed knock on the door and Lilly went immediately to open it. Ash and Brock fell inside, heaving breath and looking ghastly. Whatever her sisters had heard, they must have learned as well. What was she missing out on?

"You didn't answer the phone fast enough. You have to see. . . but you can't. . ." Ash was torn when it came to how to phrase his opinion. But she needed to know, she was going to find out anyway. At least now everyone would be around to make it easier to hear.

"Turn on the news, now!" Brock said, and reached across Violet to the remote that sat innocently next to her on his own, flipping back to one of the many channels featuring the same broadcast they'd been ignoring until now.

_"I'm here at the off-shore Lavander Town penitentiary, where newly convicted Giovanni Black - former leader of Team Rocket - has escaped from his highest level security cell." _A man was saying. Misty felt her heart still and her mind numb in response to it. _"Some time between three and four this morning, an alarm was triggered, alerting the guards to a Pokemon attack. There aren't many details, but it seems that a subordinate team of his had been in contact with him, using aliases. They had stolen identities from locals who are now aware of the crime and checking their financials. Unfortunately, the damage here has already been done. Photographs are posted everywhere and search parties have scattered around the outskirts of the city, but those in charge of the investigation have their doubts that he will ever be found."_

Misty didn't know what to say, and in truth suddenly found she couldn't say anything seeing as her mouth had gone mysteriously dry. She was aware of everyone's eyes on her, judging her reaction to this news. She couldn't believe it. This wasn't happening. They had won! They had finally beaten him! And their victory had been wrested from their grasp because of what? Some lowly team that nobody probably even knew existed had gotten the better of the midnight staff where Giovanni was being held?

_"I've warned you there will be consequences. You understand that, don't you? And you accept them?"_

She had foolishly done just that. But she couldn't believe that this was one of those consequences! What was the point of coming back if she would lose everything she had worked so hard to succeed in?

Her covers were off the next minute and her jacket draped over her shoulders. No, no. She had to find him. She owed it to everyone.

"Where do you think you're going?" Brock asked her, and he wasn't the only one who had gotten to their feet to stop her from leaving.

"Giovanni. . . After we've come this far, I'm not losing to him now. But I'll be back, I will, I promise, I just have to. . ."

"What Misty?" Daisy said, and grasped her shaking hands. When had they started doing that? "What can you really do? You don't have your Pokemon back yet, let alone your training liscense, and they've already got a thousand search parties on the look for him. What makes you think you can find him when they haven't yet?"

She didn't know, she didn't have an answer to that. But she knew she needed to do this. She needed this. How else was she supposed to get by knowing already that she might have failed them again? They were already willing to leave her to her own devices for the rest of her life. The only thing that could make it worse was knowing she had made them suffer, and not been able to repent for it.

And that's all her heart kept telling her. Nothing else compared, not even the gifts she had received from her friends. Her motherly instincts, her good blood, her logic. This was who she was, and she would continue fighting the survival of her conscience if it was the last thing she did. But she couldn't remember anymore. . . Was this about her, or about her friends and family?

"Let me go."

"Misty, no. . . You don't really want to do this."

"Let me go now before I. . . !" Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't believe after everything that had happened, she was going to threaten them again. After trying so hard to be the kind of person anyone would be proud of, she was doing the same things Giovanni had done, and the same things he had forced her to do in his name. She was no better than him after all.

She calmly ripped her arm away from Daisy, who shrunk back. Misty didn't know whether her sister feared _her _or the situation more. Everyone was afraid now. Giovanni was not just a threat to them, but to the entire world.

"Please go away. I need to be alone." She said, defeated, and sitting down on her bed. The mattress sagged underneath her, a reflection of how she was feeling at the moment, and maybe for awhile yet. But nobody made it a hurry to leave the room. They still weren't sure what she planned on doing once they were gone.

"I'm telling you, I won't do anything. After all. . . what _can _I do other than make it worse?" Her eyes begged for privacy, her shoulders slumped. She hadn't felt so subdued in a long time. She felt like ripping something apart, like crying, like holding somebody and telling them how awful she felt. At the same time, memories crept up to her, times when that man had forced her to do things she wouldn't ordinarily do. But she was always capable of doing them, wasn't she? How could she say she was a different person than her father when she had to watch her every move to ensure she didn't follow his teachings anyway? She didn't even think she had a restraint on herself anymore.

Brock sighed, and each of her sisters placed a hand to one of her shoulders by means of consolation. If she asked for them to leave, they really had no choice, did they? They could fight and fight her all they wanted, but in the end Misty had the right to choose if they should stay or go. It _was _her room.

But Ash didn't budge just yet, even when the audience had whittled down to zero. Now it was just the two of them. Misty couldn't remember the last time it had been like this, or felt like this. She turned away from him anyway, her stomach tumbling from the discomfort. She couldn't face him either.

But Ash clearly had something to say to her, as was obvious by the clearing of his throat a second later. He sat down and stared at her back, speaking clearly so that she would hear him and understand.

". . . I tried to make sense out of it, going over it. Over and over. When they admitted all of us to Viridian General, we were told that we suffered from mild malnutrition. I understood that, but they also said that. . . you were the same. I had seen it too, but I hadn't really accept it until they told me it was true. You'd lost a fair amount of weight, Misty. Your cheekbones are more defined than they were before, and if you were posed in a specific way, it was obvious that your ribs would show.

"The Misty I've known, the Misty I thought I knew. . . would lose sleep over what had happened to her friends, let alone her part in causing it. Not only that, but she probably wouldn't eat much. She would let herself suffer throughout the course of time we had suffered, until she'd believed her dues were paid. And she would have lied about it the whole way so we wouldn't know.

"So if you say that you're still that person, then it would make sense that I would be torn about what to do. I mean, on one hand, you didn't trust me enough to help think of a way to stop Giovanni from killing us, but on the other. . . You must have agonized over your decision. If I know you inside and out like I always thought I had, then it must have been hard for you. I know it.

"But at the same time, I'm beating myself up. I couldn't fathom what you'd done. I've never felt the loss of a friend before, and I'm not in a rush to experience it again. But looking at you, I see a resemblance between us. You think you have to chase after him, he's _your _father and somehow that makes him your responsibility, _your _burden. I've been there before, Misty. You know I have. There are some things that only we're capable of doing. But this isn't one of them, is it? I mean, we had planned to do that together, but Giovanni was one step ahead the entire time. We only started moving forward after we were rescued by Officer Jenny.

"And your father was found guilty. They're going to sentence him to something whether it's tomorrow or a year from now. It's not your battle anymore, Misty. You've done your part, and you beat him. Now let the authorities do their part in finding him."

His tone didn't waver during the entire time he talked. He believed in what he was saying, even though he was saying that she should give up and give in. She couldn't actually be hearing that, could she? Still, she couldn't look at him to verify it. She laid there facing the opposite direction, eyes drawn to the drawn curtains behind which the sun was probably showing. The rest of the world worried over Giovanni's escape, but her?

She would agonize over her loss, day after day and night after night, for the rest of her life.

"If you still want to be alone, I'll go," Ash finally finished, and there was the creak of him removing his weight from the chair behind her, "but I want a promise first. As my friend, and my _best _friend, I want you to promise me that you won't go anywhere. You won't make any stupid moves."

She couldn't believe he was doing this to her! She had wanted to hear him talk to her like that for so long, and now all she could do was. . . jam her eyes tightly shut and cross her fingers as she answered him.

". . . I promise."

And yet, that night she did something she never thought she'd do again. She broke into the Celadon PokeCenter where her Pokemon were being kept safe until the return of her training liscense later that month. She drew no attention to herself and made it out without tripping any alarms. Luckily, most of the architechtural designs were the same, especially throughout Kanto. She had caught a lucky break.

She traveled by night along the pathways leading to the next city. Lavander Town. She reached it by early morning, walking towards the southern exit that led to the water bridges. And built atop the western plains that had existed where she stood only a few years ago was. . .

Even now, just before five in the morning, many people were roaming the fields outskirting the fenced prison setting. Armed officers and civilians, Pokemon that were trying to use their many senses to locate her father.

It made her nervous to look at all them, and she drew the hoodie of her jacket a little closer to her face so she wouldn't be noticed as much. She wanted to bypass the yellow tape marking the main entrance but knew she would be stopped right away. Camcorders had been whipped out to mark the day when a crazed villian had gotten away with everything he'd ever done, including those belonging to newscasters. Outside of the search parties, miscellaneous spectators stood as well, trying to get the best view. Beyond some strange paranormal activity circling their hometown, after all, Lavander was pretty boring. That something like this had happened almost made it worthwhile that he'd done so many horrible things.

Misty glanced around, wondering if she'd recongize anyone. She even wondered if they'd recognize her. An ex-Rocket? A fan of her trial, which had been partially televised up until a few months ago.

It happened without any sort of warning. Her eyes matched up with another set, and she realized she knew those eyes. They made her sleepy, but also put her on her guard. Shew knew that passive expression, as if there was nothing he didn't know.

She knew _him_. And she was showered with an immediate rage that overpowered her will. She ran at him and grabbed a hold of his collar, making sure he couldn't get loose without taking her wherever he might have planned on teleporting next.

"Psychic. . . You're the psychic! From Rustboro! A - and you were at my trial, too, weren't you? You took me, you took May's Pokemon. . . even after I begged you not to. . ." She was angry. She was scared. She was livid though, above anything else. "You. . . ! If you're here, then you must have been the one to help him flee!" As loud as she wanted to shout it, her voice didn't raise itself above a whisper, and she asked herself if maybe he had done something to manipulate her vocal cords.

But the grip on his collar strengthened threateningly despite it. She wanted to scare this man, he deserved to be scared! Look what he'd done! Look at what Giovanni had achieved because of him!

"I had nothing to do with this. An off-base executive Rocket team has been in contact with Giovanni for months. Or don't you watch the news?"

"I do. I saw, I heard. . . But high-security prisons have defense systems to fight Pokemon that would be used to break out criminals. Lavander's hosts Ghost Pokemon as wards of dark energy. . . Only a strong psychic Pokemon could break through that. Maybe one led by a strong psychic _trainer_."

She let the words sink in, and thought she'd broken his resolve. But in the end he wasn't budging. Still, he did have a few words for her.

"I told you it wouldn't be for long."

"What?"

"Your trials. Your friends' captivity. I told you from the beginning it wouldn't be for long."

She hadn't even thought about it, mostly because she couldn't stand to trust somebody who had been hired by Giovanni. But then, she had been the same way, hadn't she?

"Not for long? What are you talking about?" She asked incredulously, "You helped to steal a whole year from us, from me and my. . ." She didn't even know what to call them anymore, they were so distant, ". . . from Ash, May, and Brock! Do you even _know _what can happen in a year?"

As she spoke, the visions floated through her mind. Taking her friends hostage, meeting them again for the first time after that while they gathered around Giovanni, knowing that while she stole Pokemon and precious artifacts from unknown victims, they wasted away underground. May's attempted murder. Ash's hatred, the way he wanted to spit on her. Brock's absolute silence, as if he couldn't have been more disappointed. Her father's words, how they sunk into her skin and changed her. She fought for him, but inside she had been fighting against him all along. She was so terrified that, despite her convictions and her denial, she would become him anyway. . .

"Do you know what changes they had to go through, how they can't even be the same people anymore? They nearly starved, they were beaten until they learned not to talk back, and they were treated like. . . like. . ." She heaved and finally let go of him, unable to stop herself from shaking. She was losing grip, in more ways than one.

_"Do you know how lonely it is when nobody can trust you?"_

She drew such a deep breath that it froze her throat. She coughed for a second, not expecting that. She turned to look the man in the eyes again and saw that they'd turned an eerie blue. She felt it at once, as if she was being sucked in and pulled under. This man. . . was reading her thoughts?

_"I was so scared for them, but really I'm selfish because I wanted them to be scared for _me_. I made them help me, it was my fault they were targetted by Giovanni. But I couldn't stay away because nobody else knew me. Nobody else would have believed me. My friends were always, always. . . far too good for me. And now they'll want nothing to do with me! Never! I couldn't have faced this alone because I knew that I wasn't strong enough to fight off who I was without somebody holding my hand and telling me I could be different.. . ."_

". . . But Ash made me new, he helped me love myself, he is the reason I have to be Misty. I had a childhood because he made me laugh and cry and get angry. I was a kid thanks to him. God," and she finally realized she was the one speaking again, compelled by a strange urge to be the most honest she'd ever been before, "I love him. I love him so much I can't think straight, walk straight, talk straight. I said I would live so that he could live! But I can't love him anymore and I won't be around him if he can't be honest with me! He hates me for what I've done, and he won't forgive me for breaking my promise! So I don't have any reason to stay!"

She gasped, knowing there was nothing left to say. She had made her decision already, but hadn't known it until now. Ash may have wanted to forgive her, but really, it was impossible, even for him. As he had said, he'd never suffered the loss of a friend before, and he couldn't experience it again. She'd failed his test. She'd run away, even though she'd had at least some intent to return to Celadon again. But now. . . she definitely couldn't face him. She was doomed to chase her past and destroy it. And by doing that, she was doomed to destroy herself, wasn't she? The sun was vanishing from within her, and it would only continue to get darker.

"Know that you were meant to move him, the man you despise because of who he made you become. But something even I couldn't see has interfered, and his rage and malice, and _madness_, will not end. Prepare yourself for this new journey. It's your destiny to stop him now."

_Destiny_. There was that horrible word again, the one that ruled her. But she would let it, because she had nothing else to return to.

So very far away and yet not very far at all, Ash's eyes eased themselves open cautiously. It was like waking from a dream that had scared him, but he couldn't remember any of it. Truth be told, the only thing that came to him was an echo. Someone he knew was screaming desperately, saying they had to go away. It was an omen that never boded well with him.

He got up and wiped his brow, thinking about getting a glass of water to calm his nerves, when the lights all turned on at the same time and he jumped, blinked, and met eyes with Brock.

"Ash. . ."

He was awake now, and he knew somehow what had happened. He should've figured it out sooner. . . And five minutes later he was staring at an empty bed down the hallway, his worst fears confirmed.

Misty was gone for good.

OoOoO

**Notes **- Hahah, I don't even remember how to write ending notes for this fic anymore. Can you believe it? An actual update! I should have told you guys from the beginning that you were in for the long haul when it came to this stupid thing. But if you're still reading, then it's definitely still worth updating. Yay!

Okay, so as for all of the scientific and medical mumbo-jumbo. . . I owe a lot of it to House and Law and Order. Like I've said from the beginning, this was going to be inspired by a lot of those shows, and now you know why. Scenes like the ones in this chapter, those that make me sound smart, were definitely not really mine. I mean, I did some light research on guns so that I was sure I'd know what I wanted to use, and I asked for advice on it too. I even looked up Japanese law on personal rights to bear arms. Did you know they can't there? Apparently, Japan has the strictest laws against gun use in the modern world, and their crime rates pertaining to guns is very low. Impressive, isn't it?

Unfortunately, I used the American judicial system, mostly because it's obviously what I'm familiar with. But it was fun to mix the two, and easy enough to make sense of, considering that all of the names and words are in english despite the japanese heretage of the anime. Anyway, I hope that's okay, and that you can look past that. Why?

Because I finally updated, and it's the longest chapter yet! Anyways, I'll see you guys a couple of years from now when I do this again, okay? Tee hee. Oh, and of course, if you have any questions or comments, send them in a review or PM and I'll gladly get back to you. Seriously, I've done it before with other reviewers.

Ah, wait just a second. I did want to mention that Misty's confession to the psychic was a last minute thing, but there were all of these feelings drifting around, and they obviously existed. The point was that I wanted somebody to hear them in words. What's more was that if it was a stranger, it's even more interesting, isn't it? And to those who doubted that the psychic would return, shame on you! Ever since I'd first entered him in, I knew he'd have to make another cameo appearance down the line and reiterate what he'd told Misty in the beginning. That he would tell her what she needed to do just added to the fun.

**Spoiler for Epilogue **- It's been about a year since Misty vanished over the course of the night from Celadon City. Everyone has disbanded from the group and returned home, trying to move on with their lives. But how can they when the past threatens to eat them up whenever they step outside or think to themselves for too long? Shadows follow them everywhere, and it's hard just to talk to one another, if they bother at all. Do they stand a chance at recovery after everything that's happened to them? It's just like Misty said, then. A lot really can change during the course of a year's time. . .


	9. Epilogue

**Author **- Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon; if I did, Illicit Saints would be a feature film and the anime would be a little more adult and a little more Pokeshippy. No, wait. . . A lot more Pokeshippy. Lots more; yup. But I don't, so it doesn't matter in any case.

**Warning **- Contains sexual references and displays, graphic violence, etc. Rated 'M' for mature themes.

**Warning 2.0** - (Wow, haven't seen one of those since part two.) This is just to let all of you know that **this part is over 30,000 words** long. So if you need to use the bathroom, eat, sleep, [insert other habitual human functions here] then I suggest you do it now. Lol.

OoO

**Characters **/ **Ages **-

**Misty **/ **19**

**Ash **/ **18**

**Brock **/ **22**

**May **/ **15**

**Jessie **/ **24**

**James **/ **23**

OoO

**Pokemon - Illicit Saints**

Part Eight (epilogue)

OoOoO

The weather was damp and moist that day. Dark gray skies and sodden earth and sheltered, closed off homes. The Ketchum house was no different, windows shut and heat on. Fall had just started and Winter would come soon.

Not for the first time, Ash sat in front of the television with a blank expression on his face. He didn't really see the people on screen interacting or hear the joke that they had just made. His mind was a million miles away as always, fettered by the turn his life had taken over the past year.

He had since stopped training professionally, finding his heart was rarely in it anymore and knowing that it wasn't enough to keep going. So he gave it up, hardly believing that it could be so easy. At that time, however, he had been plagued by the ever more distant past. He kept imagining the days and weeks and years whiled away with his friends on the road, getting stronger and closer to their dreams and at the same time evading Team Rocket (the _flunky _Team Rocket) and their dastardly schemes. But dreams had a way of changing, he had come to realize, and his had become something else. He only wanted to _return _to those days.

Needless to say, that was impossible now. Jessie and James had disappeared almost immediately with Meowth hot on their trails after their rescue from the underground base in Viridian Forest. May had returned home with her parents, her brother following after her. She had been traumatized by Misty's final stand against her father and, though having recovered from any physical illness herself, had turned slightly paranoid at the outside world. He called every once in awhile to check up on her, enduring some forced light conversation with her parents. May herself refused to talk to him, even now. Or else, maybe her parents wouldn't let her, just in case such a thing only made her condition worse.

And Misty. . . She had been gone since Giovanni's escape, chasing after him as though her life depended on it. And it probably did. But Ash found it hard to forgive her, despite all of that. And even so, as time passed, he wondered about her. . . even _worried _about her as the seasons changed and the wind blew long and bitter.

_Like now. . . ?_ He thought blandly with half a glance out the window. The rain poured down in sheets and torrents that threatened to send the house collapsing with it. But still he watched it blankly, nonchalantly, wishing something would happen to change this - (to change _him_) - but knowing deep down it would only be for the worst anyway. Nothing would do him any good, he had realized often enough over the course of the past year, and while he wanted only to go back to those innocent and golden days with his friends, he also knew that he would prefer to be left alone at this point.

People had a way of abandoning him, and he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it before. First Gary, then Ritchie, then Brock, followed by Tracey, then Misty and Brock _again_ (he had felt a strange sense of deja vu at the time actually). Then came his new journey with May and Max and Brock, all of which who'd left him for the last time now. And Misty, who had promised him that she wouldn't leave, wouldn't do anything rash after her father's escape, but she'd gone anyway, hadn't she? He had told himself that he was protecting _her _at the time, telling her to stay for her own benefit. . . but really he just couldn't bear the thought of her running off after that _psycho_ and never coming back. The sting of that moment when he realized she had gone after all would never dull.

His mother, sickly during Giovanni's trial, had only survived on one hope - that of her son's return. But the Ash she found in the end was not the one she knew, and she suffered slowly until a second stroke ended her life some odd months later. That was half a year ago.

His Pokemon held up permanent residence at Professor Oak's preserve at the edge of Pallet Town. Every once in awhile Ash would find himself with enough energy to go there and visit with them but it was a rare thing. Professor Oak often called and requested that they catch up or go get something to eat together but Ash either screened those calls or answered simply to refuse the offer. He was tired of the disappointment but what was worse was that he was tired of seeing everyone's disappointment in _him_.

He could barely look Pikachu in the eyes anymore because of that expression on his face. But he knew he understood because he had taken each of those blows almost as personally as Ash had, especially when it came to Brock and Misty, since they'd known each other longest.

So he stayed home and watched television, eating nothing but instant meals and take out. And honestly that's what he was waiting for today. The Chinese place was running late no doubt because of the foul weather. . . but it didn't make him any less agitated, and that was for certain. His stomach grumbled, puncturing the whirring sound of a live audience laughing through the funnel of his stereo speakers. Truth be told, even eating had lost the exciting feel it had originally retained for him. He would do it to gain energy and sometimes (though rarely) out of sheer boredom, but it no longer entertained him.

Eating was just another tedious task he had to deal with everyday.

He heard the ringing of his front door and went to answer it. Dinner was here. He'd finish that and then sleep, just like nearly every other day that had taken place in the past year.

_The blue glow encircled the man's body, plucking him up from the ground and suspending him there. He attempted to twist himself free from the unexpected cage. But it was useless, and even as he tried, he could feel the pressure building inside his skull. His brain pulsed, enlarged, squeezed at what held it still. He screamed murderously as his eyes began to pop out of their sockets. He could do nothing to stop it now._

Ash feigned sleep that night so as not to disturb the silence of his otherwise empty house. The wind had begun to howl earlier that day, the rain splattering against the windows in his bedroom. It was useless to try but he'd rather do that than waste electricity. The money his mother had left him shouldn't be used so frivolously, and he would have no excuses if it was. Suddenly in charge of his own budget, he had told himself the same thing since the beginning of his new life.

Of course, he couldn't say for sure if the next sounds he heard were from the weather. He felt his suspicions get the better of him and slowly crept out from under the blankets.

He told himself even as he bravely clambered out into the upstairs hallway that he was reacting to nothing irregular. Of _course _floorboards from the downstairs patio were creaking. Of _course _the wind sounded to him like the high-pitched wailing only humans could express from the greatest agony. He was sure he must have been imagining it, even as he approached the front door and caught sight of a silhouette bracing against the windowpane. Surely those were just rogue tree branches dancing in the glow of the street lamps.

Too stubborn to admit himself a coward when caught facing his worst possible fears alone, he flipped the bolt lock and threw open the front door, not fast enough to escape the mist that hit his face through the screen. The irony of this foreshadowing did not escape him as his eyes drunk in the sight of long, matted red hair, pale skin blemished with untreated cuts and bruises, and tattered clothes that he hadn't seen in over a year.

"Guh. . ." He yelped unintelligibly, unable to form the syllables of that name. It was enough to get her attention though. She turned and faced him and seemed just as lost for words.

And before her lips could even creep open, before she could try to apologize or explain herself, or win him over, he had automatically slammed the door in Misty's face.

_The stench hit her before she'd even been able to force the door open, though it didn't stop her from doing so. Once she had caught her breath from the duress, she took in the sight of five corpses - all in Rocket garb and all in the process of decomposition. So _this _was what had become of the elusive team that had helped Giovanni escape from Lavander Town's penetentiary. Misty hadn't known what to expect when she went looking. A reformed army, maybe, or a small resistance. . . But these people were far beyond her help now. _

_She chanced another glance at them before turning the other way. She was trying to see what the cause of death was, perhaps the knowledge would help her prepare her for when she found her father again. There was blood everywhere, something she would have noticed right away if she hadn't gotten so used to it over the course of time while she was employed for Team Rocket. Not that it didn't sicken her, but the thought that she could stare at it as if it were nothing was what caused that nausea to double. It took her ten seconds of glancing around the room for her to see that all men had suffered gunshots to the back of the head. It looked a little bit like an executionary shooting. Or maybe it was a cowardly slaughter._

_Still, the bodies were only a couple weeks old. This meant that she was getting close to him, right? And she knew two things for sure about Giovanni now. One was that somehow he had procured a weapon that he could use to ward off adversaries. Two was that, wherever he was and whatever he was doing, he had clearly lost his mind. She meant this from a medical standpoint, not a personal one. If he was trying to resurrect Team Rocket to their former glory, one of his first moves should _not _have been to end the team that had helped him escape his prison sentence._

_She stumbled out the front door of the abandoned tenement, looking back long enough to take in the address and general vicinity. Nothing else was around that would lead her to suspect he was waiting for her here. She still had one thing she had to do then before moving on. She would have to call the local precinct from a pay phone and alert them to what she had just found inside that house._

The rain still fell hard the next day when Ash woke up. He smashed his eyes tightly shut again as though hoping he could ignore the splattering and rattling of rain and wind on his windows. But even so, his thoughts drifted back to the redheaded woman downstairs.

Ash had slept as peacefully as his warring mind would allow the rest of the night before which, given that he normally only got three hours and had managed to pull off five, was a good thing. He briefly wondered if it was because of the bitter satisfaction he had felt at shoving Misty out of his pathetic life or if it was because his deep, _deep _subconscious worries about her had been alleviated.

Was she still there on his doorstep even now? Surely not. She must have moved on by now after learning that he wanted nothing to do with her right? Because he definitely didn't. Repeating that to himself didn't stop him from wondering though. And so, to ease his curiosity, he rose from his bed and went to the window, staring as hard as he could to see through the rain. Even with the awning in the way, he could see flashes of long red hair blowing this way and that.

Ash chose to ignore his conscience and, therefore, Misty as well.

He ate an apple for breakfast, his appetite strangely silent, then went to watch some television. Unfortunately, due to the constant storming, some wires had been crossed or cut so all that he could entertain himself with was a blank blue picture that fizzled out into static every once in awhile. If ever there were a message from a higher power, this would be it. But still he feigned ignorance. He'd already been down that dark road once and he didn't dare go back, not even for her. _Especially _for her.

Misty remained outside his door for the rest of the morning. As far as he could tell, she hadn't budged an inch since he'd shut the door on her the night before except to turn and face the yard with her knees curled up to her chest and her head in her arms. He wanted to tell her to get lost, that he never wanted to see her again, that she had better go or he would call the cops on her. . . but he was almost positive that it wouldn't do him any good, even when it looked like a flood advisory had gone into effect. She continued to sit there like a stray cat. It was as if. . .

. . . as if she had nowhere left to go.

The moment of dawning comprehension sent a fearsome course of electricity throughout him. Why did that sound familiar, painfully similar? It reminded him of. . . his own situation after being held prisoner, after losing Misty again to that man. But not only him, considering May's paranoia and Brock's hermitage. Everyone had lost so much of themselves because of what happened a year ago. In fact, it was a marvel that he could look at Misty again without doing worse things to her. And yet, here he was once more, door open and eyes unapproachable. Could he really be all that Misty had left?

"What do you want from me?" He finally worked up the nerve to ask her, but all she afforded was a mild twitch in response.

_She heaved a shudder and prepared herself for the worst. Giovanni had struck gold, a lucky shot nearly blowing Misty's entire hand off. She sat in a crumpled heap - as much as she detested the fact - trying her hardest not to whimper from the pain. She was too terrified to actually look at her hand and examine the damage for herself, nauseous at the thought that she might have to have a couple fingers amputated._

_Giovanni slowly approached her with the pistol raised. He had spent three rounds which meant he had roughly three left. That was more than enough to finish her off. Still, she was right-handed and he had only mutilated her left. If she could just manipulate the pain so that she could _move. . .

_Her mind fell on her secret weapon and she wasted no time in removing the pocket knife from behind her and poising it at her left shoulder, striking herself fast. If Giovanni had been shocked at the sudden appearance of the blade, it was nothing compared to the moment when she had impaled her arm with it. It was useless to her for now anyway. But it was the shock to her own senses that proved the most fruitful. She clutched the knife again, this time aggressively, and dashed forward._

_She lashed out and found her own luck, cutting into the wrist that was attached to the hand holding the gun. The laceration was moderately deep and continued to bleed from between his fingers as he clutched it tightly. He grimaced for a moment but cackled again soon after._

_"You're quite the little monster, aren't you. . . ?" He asked her, sounding pleased at the thought._

"Well?" the snarl repeated itself. "Are you going to answer me or not?"

Giovanni had called her a monster as a way of praising her. She could only wonder if Ash felt the same way about her. It wasn't much of a venture in guessing the answer though.

Her throat was parched and her heart beat erratically. She shook from the cold but it was only noticeable if someone stared her in the face. Considering all Ash wanted to do was get her off of his property so that he'd never see her again, she doubted he'd notice. However that didn't mean he would stop looking for his answer. In truth, the words escaping his lips also escaped his control. Why should he even bother with her? He didn't trust her, he couldn't do that. . . but he also hadn't had much interaction with people since his mother's death - the final straw for him. Maybe even something as loud and angry as this would do him some good.

But it was beyond not having the right answer to give him. Misty simply couldn't form words.

There was the screeching of hinges that needed oiling and the crash as the screen door flew back and hit the frame. Finally he had the closer inspection she had been dreading. He could see her bloodshot eyes, her pale forehead and flushed cheeks, the grime underneath her fingernails, and the poor cloth she'd used to make the unimaginative bandage that wrapped around her other hand, the numerous tears to her clothes, but worse than that was the incision in her arm that she'd left alone. She'd run out of emergency supplies before she could fix it up, all of them having been used long ago to try and stitch up her hand. Eventually her shoulder had stopped bleeding after she'd applied countless days of pressure and rest. She'd given up plenty of waking hours due to the temporary anemia but it had worked out for the best in the end.

Nevertheless, Ash was the first person to take everything in, everything that she had kept hidden until now.

"You're feverish. . ." He said it as though it were obvious but he didn't dare touch her to confirm it. She looked so broken and battered that he doubted if she would survive the human contact. But now that he knew, he was sure that he couldn't just leave her be. Misty knew he was right too. All of her symptoms fit the bill, including her shallow breath. Ash couldn't really believe it himself but he felt the leftovers of who he used to be flutter from within him.

". . . I'm going back inside. The door will be unlocked." It was an unfamiliar notion, extending a hand in invitation towards someone else. He had learned a long time ago that even the most trustworthy people would let him down eventually and he'd grown wary of having to sort through the mess that was mankind.

Misty nodded silently at his choice of words but didn't wait. Slowly, unsteadily, she reached her feet. He almost offered his assistance when he noticed her limp from something mildly similar to a sprained ankle but couldn't bring himself to do it. In the end, he was already stretching himself past his capacity to care for somebody who wasn't one of his Pokemon. Slightly vindictive (and possibly a little bit curious about her reaction towards it), he let the screen door snap closed between the two of them. The Misty from their youth would have yelled at him for his rude behavior, maybe even threatened him. . . but the Misty before him now was entirely too absorbed in her current status and the fact that he'd even acknowledged her existence. He wasn't even sure she was grateful for it.

The thought floated through his head as he comprehended where they stood with each other now. Things _weren't _supposed to turn out this way.

_She had told herself from the beginning of her pursuit of Giovanni that she would not involve anyone else. He was her burden and her destiny, her past and future. She could not move on if he continued to chain her down. And there was obviously no doubt that he would keep her under his heel forever if he could. But she had failed. And _how_. Undoubtedly and miserably, she couldn't believe it had come to this._

_But the horror of her Pokemon's unexpected appearance had thrown her. She couldn't react until the attack on Giovanni was underway. She had waited so long to end this but her Pokemon's misguided efforts in trying to protect her had in fact done the job for her._

_"No!" She shrieked, scrambling forward on her knees and her good hand despite the numbing pain. Polka dots popped in front of her eyes but she threw her arms around her partner anyway in an effort to convince him to withdraw his terrible power. "God, please _stop_!"_

_But she was sure that the damage was already done._

She could still see so clearly how the man had writhed until it was just a twitch, how his limbs were tossed in some rather odd positions from being broken and twisted in several places, how his cruel laughter had suddenly died down and a vacant expression had taken over.

Quite the monster indeed.

Ash left her to own own devices in such a way that it suggested that she should do whatever she deemed necessary to help herself. So help herself she did, right upstairs and into the shower. Her body was sore and she had to make sure that her stitched hand was kept out of the water, but even so the soap lather and the heat felt great. She had long since forgotten what a moment of comfort felt like so it was a little unsettling when she realized she was experiencing one.

Of course it ended soon after that as her good hand worked its way up to the tangles of her hair. She was able to leaf her fingers through about two inches but going further than that ignited more pain. She felt her cheeks heat up and her eyes water as if she were going to cry but no tears came. Maybe she had simply forgotten how to do it or maybe her subconscious was just trying to tell her that she didn't deserve to.

Giving up, she turned the knob of the tub faucet until nothing was flowing from the nozzle, grabbing a towel from the small closet space to her right. She remembered doing the same thing when she was younger, having stayed at the Ketchum residence a few times in between the different Leagues Ash took part in. It seemed some things hadn't changed.

Then she eyed the clothes she'd been wearing before distastefully. She hadn't thought that far ahead. Would she have to put those back on? She wondered about it and a sigh escaped her that caused her head to swell and her mind to go blank. She fingered one of the many rips in the cotton and her hand grazed one of the bloodstains. And then she spent a few minutes patting her body dry before she resolved to wear them again. It wasn't like she had any other choice.

When she wandered back downstairs a little while later, it was to find a couple pain killers and half a glass of water sitting on the coffee table. She looked around, clutching her towel tighter to her chest because she didn't know what to do with it. Mrs. Ketchum had always taken them when she'd visited at a younger age. Ash was nowhere to be found but she assumed the pills were meant for her. Unless, and the thought could have made her laugh, he was getting a headache from the stress of the situation. Just like old times.

She sat down on the couch and swallowed them in one go, almost ignoring the water but deciding that she was probably at least a little bit dehydrated, and gulped it down too in a matter of moments. Unfortunately she felt her stomach churn and her throat clench up. She thought she was going to puke but curbed the urge and leaned her head back, finding herself staring at the ceiling.

"It's all I had that said it reduces a fever. And maybe it'll do something for the pain too." A voice called from behind her. Misty jumped but pretended she hadn't, slowly twisting around to see Ash cautiously making his way downstairs. His arms were full with a couple of extra blankets and pillows, which he tossed unceremoniously onto the couch beside her. She felt a wild jolt of surprise come to her. He was strangely accommodating for someone who probably had expected (and hoped) never to see her again. "Help yourself," he told her, indicating the bedding items he'd brought downstairs.

She didn't move at first, feeling uncomfortable as he stared her down. She knew he had to be judging her next course of action. Then she realized something was out of place, leaned forward - (almost regretting it) - and withdrew a single coaster from the stack at the corner of the table, placing it under her empty glass.

"I'm going grocery shopping." Ash said suddenly as though distracting and distancing himself form the hilarity of that moment. "Do what you want while I'm gone. I would suggest that you get some sleep," he faltered here with what could have been presumed was a scowl on his face, "but we both know what you must think of my suggestions."

She ignored his biting tone and waited for him to go but he seemed to be stalling.

"Do you. . ." Ash struggled to find the words he was looking for. He had not attempted to help someone in a long time and swore to himself that he'd actually forgotten what to do and say, how to be courteous, ". . . need anything else?"

"Yes," she felt her eyes widen at the incredulous thought that she still had a voice. It seemed like it had been forever and a day since she'd found a proper use for it, "Do you have a pair of scissors I could borrow?"

_She felt him train the pistol on her. Then Giovanni fired and she was sure this would be it but the bullet went just by her thigh, scraping her enough to singe the skin and make her bleed. She flinched but knew it wasn't the worst pain she'd ever felt. If she could withstand this then she'd have to._

_He had been trying to egg her into conversation since the moment he laid eyes on her that day but Misty would have none of it. She remained oddly detached because she knew if Giovanni was given the chance, he would try to tear her down. The little bit of her that was left anyway. She wouldn't even do something as small as scream for him._

_Instead she was silent and deadly, the knife out before her in her tight grip. She was careful not to let the blade slip lest she cut herself, especially when her hands were her only other weapons. Her Pokeballs were still clipped to her waist and her fingers itched to grab them and use them to her advantage. Looking at Giovanni, it seemed that he had not been able to find a way to control even one Pokemon of his own in the past year, and she couldn't dare unleash hers. This was her own fight._

_But luck and timing just weren't on her side today. As an elderly gentleman, Giovanni's physical prowess was not its best, but it had yet to fail him entirely. In fact, considering the lack of care Misty had taken in her own health, they were probably on even ground with one another. Giovanni's advantage though, was that he had a weapon that could cut through anything (especially a great amount of space) in only a few seconds. He had several bullets made of steel that could make contact in a matter of moments. Her pocket knife, while made with similar durability, could only travel as fast as her arm was able to move, and was used for short distance._

_But the training that Giovanni himself had put her through had not completely left her. While all he could do short of a couple rolling tumbles was run around, she could do so much more. She dodged behind solid objects (using the environment to her advantage), she flipped onto one hand and practically leapt to the trees for cover (evading both his gun and his eyesight). She felt slightly satisfied knowing that she could've been the haunting voice that floated to _his _ears for the first time in her life._

_So satisfied in fact, that she didn't see one of her Pokeballs fall from its clasp, hitting the ground in its compact form and remaining there for the next few minutes as their adrenaline peaked._

Misty did not snap awake from the terror or leap from the makeshift bed Ash had let her put together on his couch. The nightmares had been around far too long for that. In fact, it was why she barely slept. Instead her eyes slowly crawled open and she sighed despondently, her good hand to her sweaty scalp in an instant. Flashes of what had happened in Viridian Forest met her hindsight, followed by a nervous glance at her Pokebelt. All of her Pokemon were still with her for now. . . but how much longer would that last?

Ash didn't make it a habit to ask her any questions about what had transpired with Giovanni over the past year, but that didn't mean he wasn't curious. Even Misty could tell that the only reason he wasn't looking for answers was because he was too stubborn to take an open interest. Well that and her battered body probably had something to do with it. She was sure that all of her cuts and bruises and lack of care towards herself told a story all its own. What was he thinking? Did he continue to give her the benefit of the doubt or would he have given up by now and assumed the worst?

Misty felt something in her chest tingle. The thought that Ash had given up on her was a little hard to bear, and it would only get harder the longer she stayed in his house with him. She chose not to think of it now and let the nearly pitch-black darkness lull her back to sleep. It would be weak and fitful but the delusional visions would still probably ease her worries about her future. Or lack thereof.

". . . Wake up," his voice called out to her sometime later. She slowly eased herself from her rest and caught sight of Ash staring at her awkwardly from behind the couch. Awkwardly and frustratingly from what she could tell, though she didn't quite know why. He didn't dare touch her to give her the wrong idea about his feelings for her. He slowly walked up beside her so that she could see he was holding something. "I bought this for you. I was going to give it to you yesterday but by the time I got back, you were already sleeping." He looked her in the face as if fighting one of his worst fears. Or maybe he was looking right above her face at her scalp. Her once-was or what-could-have-been luxurious hair had been sheared off, leaving just enough to reach the top of her neck. Interestingly, he had found no mess anywhere in his home suggesting she'd done such a thing to herself.

She took the object from him, revealing it to be a trainer's first aid kit. She hadn't seen one in a couple months. They were supposed to be handed out to new trainers who were just starting out because they contained a little bit of everything that could help them if they got in trouble. Medicine, anti-bacterial spread, band aids and gauze wrap, ice pack, information on CPR, and for worst-case scenarios, a needle and thread for sewing wounds up. In the process of training for a license, all adolescents were to take part in an emergency medical class, usually to get introduced to this very same aid kit. There was no guarantee that any of it would do her the slightest bit of good but there was some thought put into it that neither of them had known Ash was capable of anymore.

And though he didn't dare put his hand on her or offer her his condolences, little did Ash know that he had touched her anyway.

She expected him to walk away after that but it seemed he had other plans. He sat down in the armchair on her right and watched as she removed some items from the kit. The first was a one-time-use thermometer, a small paneled stick that was color-coded according to the users temperature. The second was the anti-bacterial spread, followed by the gauze and medical tape. She laid everything out on the coffee table and turned to face it, removing the blanket from her lap and revealing that she had slept without her leggings. It would have been embarrassing if not for the fact that they were covered in blood and dirt, which was obviously why she wouldn't have them on. Apparently she had more respect for his furniture than she did for him. The thought more than irritated him.

Even so, he was immediately distracted by the wounds revealed to him then. Although it hadn't been wrapped the day before when he'd first acknowledged it, her shoulder had still been mostly covered by the blood caked to it and her clothes. Now he could see it for what it was, and felt the smallest twinge of sympathy course through his consciousness despite repeating to himself internally that she definitely didn't deserve it.

Misty spent her time trying to ignore his scrutinizing gaze. She couldn't help wondering what he was thinking. Then she shook that from her head and removed the thermometer from her mouth.

"Persistent. . ." The word escaped from her lips as she saw that her fever had not vanished. Then again, it had only been one night and she'd done barely a thing to get rid of it. Even now with her new supplies, her choices for further action were still limited. It had been far too long since she'd stabbed herself so stitching it shut was out of the question. That meant she would have to endure the tortuously long and painful road to recovery. She eyed the antiseptic spread and picked it up and began her work. Ash watched as she unraveled the dirty, old bandage on her hand, grimacing as he took in the dried blood and stitching mostly located around her last two fingers. Despite the view and the logic that told him she had come _very _close to losing them, it seemed that her quick attention to her hand had made a notable difference. Her shoulder might have been a different story.

Indeed the wound had started healing on its own but without any medical assistance, the flesh bubbled up over the deep laceration, the skin a discolored red. A strange fluid had begun to leak from it over the past month, and it had begun to smell a little foul. It turned yellow against the violent red spatter and her pale complexion.

The words escaped him before he could put a stop to them.

"That's probably infected. . . Shouldn't you see someone about it?" He asked, distracting her from what she was finally about to do. The beginnings of irritation bit at her consciousness but she shook it off. He was asking her an obvious question, making a very good point. In truth, he was owed more than just the one answer. The least she could do was start here.

"Yeah, but I don't know of any doctor I could ask for help who wouldn't bring up a ton of questions."

Immediately Ash's ears pricked up. He knew someone (though not a doctor per say), oh yes he did. But the sadist in him wanted Misty to suffer a little longer. The anti-social resident didn't want to reach out to anymore people. The stubborn child in him feared her reasoning. After all, what was the harm in asking a few questions? Unless the answers she would have to give were frowned upon by most society. . . He told himself that it wasn't worth asking her for those answers then. Not if his last innocent connection to Misty would be lost.

The rest of the time was spent watching her re-bandage her shoulder and hand, unable to find and form any effective words.

_More than anything else, she couldn't believe that her chase, her mission, had brought her back to this place. Nearly ten months ago she had led Officer Jenny of Viridian City to this exact spot, though there was no suspicious clearing of trees anymore that would lead to a large underground compound. But she knew he would be here. Giovanni would be looking for any way to salvage his organization, he had to, and he had grown so desperate that he'd returned to his roots._

_She heard a click from somewhere behind her (all thanks to her slightly paranoid sense of hearing) and turned, watching as the deranged man in his soiled suit removed himself from the bushes, the silver pistol that she'd expected him to have all along in hand. It was aimed at her._

_"I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away, Aurora. After all, this is what you were born to be. And I want you to know, even if we have to start completely from scratch, that I forgive you for your past rebellion. After all," he fondled the gun a little too affectionately for her taste before it was pointed at her again, "I'll do the proper thing in punishing you and you'll do the proper thing in accepting it!"_

_Before he could even pull the trigger, Misty had already tossed herself to the left, curling into a roll and landing neatly with one leg tucked underneath her to keep balance. She could smell the oil and residue in the air, took one look at where she'd been standing a moment ago and followed the view towards a large elm tree. A part of the trunk had been blown away, the bark and a few branches that had originally been there blasted apart._

_She didn't know where he'd gotten the gun but, remembering his original position of power from what seemed so long ago, she doubted it would be difficult for him to find the right source. Luckily her reflexes were much swifter after running for so long, if a little wild at the same time. She fingered a small blade that sat in her back pocket - her last resort. And then she eyed the gun he was carrying, realizing that her life was once again in jeopardy._

_But really, what had she been thinking, pursuing him without a plan?_

Days passed with the two of them living awkwardly together. Ash would eat, then Misty. Ash would sleep, then Misty. Misty would shower, then Ash. Misty would clean, then Ash. The two spent a minimal amount of time in the same room with each other, and there was no going out unless it was necessary (and for Misty, no going out at all). Ash wondered if Misty would be gone whenever he returned from some nameless place while Misty wondered if he would bother to let her back into his home if she left the house for even a little while. But at the same time both of them were feeling the same, as though they were fugitives hiding from the law. And while that may have been true for one of them, or so Ash assumed, both wanted to do something to break the ice just a little.

For the first time in almost a year, Ash wanted to socialize with somebody else. It was briefly entertained that he wished for this because Misty was the only other person around and he was still unsure as to what kind of person she was anymore. He found himself frustrated or angry for no reason after simply looking at her, maybe because even though he wasn't looking for answers anyway, it would have been nice if she offered him some once in awhile. But Misty remained closed off to him and she was content to stay exactly the way she was, never moving forward. Again, he _assumed_.

"I'm going to see Professor Oak." He told her suddenly one day.

Misty looked up at him as though about to ask why he would bother telling her such a thing. But she held back, taking in his rigid appearance and unsure expression. She didn't know what to expect, what he was expecting, but it seemed to be important to him. She even found herself a little curious as to why.

"Alright. I'll go too."

It wasn't what Ash meant, he was sure. If nothing else, he hadn't told anybody about Misty staying with him. As far as they all knew, she was still MIA. This would be her first time leaving his house at all, and he was expected to. . . what? Lead her to her first place of judgment? A few months ago when she'd first sought him out, he would have taken quite the grand pleasure in such a spectator sport. But now he was wary, unsure. If she was ridiculed too harshly, would she run away again? Would he feel somehow obligated to stop her?

He ignored the tumble of his stomach. Surely Misty had a reason for wanting to go with him. Maybe it was the very same reason that he had assumed. Maybe she thought that she deserved what was coming to her. Maybe part of her redemption was supposed to be about hearing everyone's disappointment and disgust in her. It was a twisted way to learn to forgive oneself but then again, he was the one wishing that she would never get that chance.

Because Misty had not gone out and because she had no assets of her own, she couldn't afford to buy any new clothes. Of course she had taken a rather bold step in learning not to bother Ash unless she had no other choice in the matter, so the first time she had nonchalantly approached him wearing one of his old tee-shirts, a pair of raggedy jeans, and a worn belt to keep it all together, the only thing he could do was stare. He had nothing available to say to that that was appropriate. Words failed him and all he could do was reason with himself about it. He had given her all of the liberties of a bread crumb in his house. She existed but he was too lazy to sweep her up and throw her out, and he really couldn't care less for her movements.

So the two of them set off for the Oak lab. Misty kept her eyes on all directions seemingly at once. there were other people who walked by the odd couple but, honestly, their eyes were on the more reclusive Ash who had decided to grace them all with his presence. Apparently, after a year's time, even Misty's name and face had been forgotten by the general public despite her part in unraveling Team Rocket. It also helped that her appearance was altered by her short hair and the simple aging process.

"O - Oh, Ash! I didn't. . . Usually you call first." Tracey started sheepishly with a hand to his scalp. Ash gave him a half-hearted grin in response, Misty hiding beside him, against the wall and out of sight. Even Ash felt a little apprehensive about this. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to come here. "Well, if you wanted to come in. . ." Professor Oak's assistant eased the front door open a little more to let Ash enter but he didn't just yet.

"Yeah, Tracey, I know it's been awhile, but I've been feeling like I needed to get out, so why not take the opportunity to visit everyone here, you know? Is the Professor around? In fact, maybe I should just show you too. . ." And Ash turned and looked Misty right in the eyes. She admitted to herself that she was a little scared, but she did have to tell _someone_. She knew any decent person would feel obligated to do so, just as much as they would want to protect. . . Well, anyway, it was easy to distract herself with the passing thought that it seemed true that, in all of the times Ash left her at his place, he'd never once mentioned going to the lab. He always told her where he as going but it was usually to the market.

"M - Misty. . ." She nearly jumped when she heard her name being called and finally caught up to present happenings. She looked up and saw Tracey gaping in awe, his head poking out the front door at Ash's insistence. Then he cleared his throat and shook himself from the shock, "Ah, sorry. But my guess is that you guys came for a reason right? Professor Oak should be finishing up with a video-phone conference right about now so come on in."

It had been a long time since Misty had been in the Oak lab, far longer than when she had been in the Birch lab. And that was still a couple of years ago. But she felt like this one was more. . . personalized? It was just as large, but she didn't see any unfamiliar faces. Maybe it had to do with what a small town Pallet was, or maybe it was because Professor Oak was older than Professor Birch. He wanted a place that looked like home rather than someplace completely professional.

She and Ash sat on the couch in the lobby area while Tracey prepared some tea for them to drink. He brought them a couple glasses and sat across from them in one of the few computer chairs, twisting it around to face them as they took their first gulp.

Misty felt very uncomfortable under his scrutinization up until the time when he decided to start a conversation with her.

"So. . . how have you been Misty? I didn't expect to see you here, and Ash never mentioned. . ." For obvious reasons, of course, Ash had never _planned _on mentioning anything. "I wasn't able to attend the trial as much because I was helping Professor Oak out here but both of us were really shocked when we heard that you'd left from Celadon City. Ash and Brock told us that you probably went looking for your father. . . Did you find him?"

It was the moment Ash was sure he'd been waiting for. He wasn't brave enough to ask those questions for himself but he decided he would gratefully take advantage of Tracey's curiosity.

". . . I'd rather not talk about it for now. I did have something to discuss with the Professor though," she faltered and gripped her half-empty glass a little tighter. It would never be half-_full_, "when he gets finished with his video-phone conference."

"Oh, alright then. I'll let him know. Ash, you probably came to see your Pokemon, right? Did you want to go out back now?"

"Yeah. Let's do that." And, as much as he had been dreading whatever Misty would have to offer him, he had to admit that he was a little more disappointed in the fact that she still had nothing to say.

Ash placed his glass on the small coffee table in front of him and Misty then rose from his seat, allowing Tracey to lead him past the three or so other computer desks and beyond the narrow spiraling staircase that would have taken him to the Professor's private office. There was a glass double-door behind that that made a strange hissing sound before opening automatically. Beyond that was still a small hallway. On the wall hung posters and television screens that depicted Pokedex information on different Pokemon or videos about League rules. Towards the end of the path was a small directory that told where different types of Pokemon were being housed, whether they were inside or out, if it was recommended to wear a hazmat suit in case of status effects or elemental discharge, or if a visitor should be vaccinated for something.

Of course he ignored all of this, having seen it before. And his Pokemon trusted him thoroughly so that his Muk would refrain from poisoning him. Even his Tauros stood still in his wake rather than stampeding forward anymore.

"Pikapi!" A high-pitched voice exclaimed in a yelp, and almost as soon as he'd exited through the back door and entered the outdoor preserve, a small yellow rodent had leapt at him. "Pika pikachu pipipi!" Pikachu continued as he crawled up his shoulder.

"Oh. . . Hey Pikachu. You're looking healthy. I'm glad you're taking care of yourself." He offered his buddy a small smile in reassurance though it didn't seem to work. Pikachu then leaned forward to lick his cheek as a sign of condolence just before catching a whiff of a distant yet familiar scent on his master.

"Pikachupi!" Pikachu shouted excitedly, his expression contorting suddenly before he shook his head in all directions as though trying to tell where the scent originated from. He seemed able to tell that Misty was nearby but now that they were outside with all sorts of other smells and the laboratory sealed shut behind them, he couldn't be anymore specific. "Pikachupi pika?"

"Ah. . . yeah. She's here too. Maybe you'll get to see her before I go home." But Pikachu could tell Ash was troubled by the possibility of their reunion and didn't want to push him. He was a relatively intelligent creature; he could sense his master's distress over the situation and he could also relate. It was so hard just to get Ash to visit him anymore. At first he'd been fiercer on him, Thundershocking him when he came around as if that would remind him to visit more often, but it never worked. It had ceased amusing him a long time ago. . . And after he had heard of Mrs. Ketchum passing away, he had decided never to push him again.

Ash was too close to the edge already.

Pikachu, of course, chose to remain on his shoulder as he toured the preserve with Tracey. He met up with Meganium, not as pleasant as Pikachu had been and nailing him upside the jaw with her _Headbutt _technique. He apologized to her as well, petting her until she calmed down and then moving on. He didn't like to be near his former partners for very long, believe it or not. He was always reminded of that itch he'd had when he was younger. Grasping a Pokeball, holding it up and pitching it forward onto the battlefield before it balanced perfectly in place, releasing one of his friends, returning back to his hand where he would clasp it to his belt and start shouting commands. Needless to say, the fire had not been put out. . . just simply suppressed.

He shook his head to escape the memories, as if it had ever been that easy. And after about an hour of journeying through the stables and fields and saying hello to all of the Pokemon he recognized (whether they were his or not), he turned back with Tracey and started walking back to the lab building in the distance. His throat was strangely parched and he couldn't figure out how to quench it. It was late autumn now so humidity wasn't an issue.

And then the glass doors slid open and he stopped and stared forward as though held there by some invisible bonds.

"Ash, what's wrong?" Tracey asked him. All the raven-haired young man could do in response was glance down at Pikachu and then back through the doors, picturing the hallway filled with posters and television screens blaring infomercials, and then beyond that. . .

"Pika pikachu. . ." Pikachu shook his head before rubbing his cheek against Ash's, a faint sparking of electricity channeling into life between them before flickering out again almost immediately. "Pi chu pika pika." And he leapt from his perch, landing swiftly on the grass and ushering his master forward again.

"Are you sure?" Ash asked him, grateful for his emotional sacrifice.

"Chu pika, Pikapi."

"Thanks buddy. . . Maybe next time you'll have the chance to see her."

When Ash and Tracey reemerged in the office area filled with desks and computers, they both glanced automatically at the coffee table where the two glasses of tea still sat, now empty. Misty was gone from there but they heard voices and looked up towards the upstairs landing of the spiral staircase leading to the Professor's private quarters and saw the only two people left in the building holding a personal conversation. As Tracey went to clear the table, Ash tore his eyes away from the familiarity that Misty was showing Professor Oak. It was unsettling to think that she could talk to the man as if she _hadn't _been AWOL for the past thirteen months, but when it came to _him_, she could barely muster up one sentence that didn't sound calculated and distant. She was guarded against him so much that he could barely comprehend her anymore.

Ignoring the hostility seeping into his consciousness, he turned away and walked to the front door to wait for her. Two or so minutes later, Misty had handed the Professor something small that Ash couldn't distinguish from his perch, shook the old man's hand, and slowly clambered down the stairs. Ash and Professor Oak exchanged a mildly friendly wave, unsure of how much they could extend it with the sudden reappearance of the redhead. A quick goodbye to Tracey and the two of them were on their way back home.

Misty still offered Ash nothing in the form of answers or explanations. In fact, she seemed even more rigid than before their visit, though he couldn't figure out _why _for the life of him. It was irritating. He could at least pretend to be aloof, careless, as if there was nothing in the world that bothered him. . . Misty, on the other hand, seemed as though she were carrying all of that weight that he refused to burden himself with anymore. Well, no matter. It wasn't as if he really wanted to know, right? He hated reminding himself of that plan to not care about her or her problems. He knew what that meant, to fake it, to pretend, to act as though she couldn't effect him. He had already been reduced to his former self, the one he had grown to be disappointed in, the one that always got hurt in the end. This was why he'd chosen to live alone and exist alone. Misty deserved his compassion least of all, didn't she?

"Ah. . ." He started as they approached the white picket fence that guarded his house. But the words didn't come easy. He snorted under his breath. They never came easy, did they? Why should they start now? But he still didn't know what to say to her. He didn't dare tell her to confide in him. He didn't want to open those doors, let her in. He didn't dare tell her to shove it either. If she were to make an offer then he wouldn't refuse her. His curiosity made sure of that, didn't it? But still. . . what to say? "Pikachu. . . said to tell you 'hi'."

Misty's step slowed to a stop right before they reached the yard. She didn't look at him, though he had been hoping beyond hope to see her facial expression when he'd told her that small bit of news. The old Misty would have loved to hear from Pikachu after so long being away from him. The Misty before him now either didn't care this whole time or she had simply forgotten about Pikachu staying at the preserve at all. Neither option made Ash feel any better. And then she finally said something.

". . . Thank you for telling me," and he realized why it had taken her so long to answer him. She wasn't shocked at the realization of Pikachu greeting her, she wasn't even happy that he told her. For whatever reason. . . Misty was crying. Or, well, on the verge of tears. Her voice was cracking anyway, and he was sure that she had simply been taking the time to gather herself together before telling him anything. But again, she didn't offer answers and he didn't offer questions. And though he was growing tired of this wall between them, he continued on. It was just another argument, just another fight. He would not let her win this one by giving in to her demands.

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, Ash began to see Misty less and less. This was not due to their unspoken plan to avoid each other at all costs while living in his home together but simply because she was never around. Misty had taken liberal opportunity to visit with the Professor as much as possible. At first Ash had assumed it was to get away from the tension the two of them had created by walking on eggshells whenever the other entered the room but he pushed aside that possibility soon after. She never returned to the house looking variably relaxed or dreadful towards her fate, never stayed away too long, and always walked away from him without a word.

Still, she began to get absentminded as the days wore on, then weeks. She ate less, wittled down her command of language to five or so words, and Ash began to see the signs of stress in her features. She wasn't sleeping much, crying more, barely paying attention to herself. If he didn't know better, he'd say she was depressed. At the very least, she seemed to be a danger to herself, so lost in her thoughts that she walked into solid objects, almost cutting off a finger once or twice while dicing vegetables in the kitchen. But the two of them never faced each other long enough for him to feel too guilty or ask her any questions.

While one part of him was grateful for the escape, another part of him was frustrated. He assumed it was because she basically only came home to eat (barely) and sleep. He had probably hoped that if she left the house, she would never come back. But this was practically teasing him and he didn't like it much at all. And worse than all of that, she had to keep visiting the lab! What, she decided that his company wasn't good enough for her and had gone to frollic and join someone else? Was he boring her? If she wanted the people around her to suit her tasteful _lack _of personality then she'd damn well better go somewhere else and stay there!

Or at least, those were the thoughts that raged within him up until the day she didn't come home.

There had never been a set time for her to return, and though she usually came back around evening, it was never due to a sense of punctuality. But nevertheless, Ash had grown accustomed to her walking in by six at night. At first he ignored his internalized sense of panic. Let her run away if she wanted to. She had shown him quite often in the past month that she had other places to go. She didn't need him and he didn't want her.

Of course, then the rain started in as darkness fell upon Pallet Town. It was strangely reminiscent of the day when she'd finally sought him out. And, dammit, he couldn't just leave her to herself. The way she'd been the past few weeks, he would fully expect to hear of her electrocuting herself somehow in the near-storm outside. Something about that just didn't bode well with him, believe it or not. So he donned a jacket, grabbed an umbrella by the front door along with his keys, and took off outside.

He didn't have to walk very far, however. As soon as he'd turned the bolt lock and swung around and down the few front stairs, he looked up at the gray sky and harsher winds and. . . Misty. She was standing just outside of the yard, staring at his house from the fence. She looked fearful, and even more-so when she saw that he was approaching her,quickly hiding something that had been clenched in his fist by shoving it into her pocket. But still she didn't move. Her clothes - or rather, _his _clothes - were drenched through. He was a little embarrassed to see the outline of her cleavage though it didn't effect the harsh tone or the words leaving his mouth next.

"What are you doing just _looking _at my house?" He shouted at her, flinging water on her as he swung his umbrella around almost threateningly. "In case you haven't noticed, it's raining right now! _Hard_! Either get inside or go back to the stupid Professor! I'm sure you'll be nice and safe and _happy _inside that effing lab-!"

"-Don't say that!" She yelled back at him suddenly. He stopped, biting his lip and blinking. She hadn't been that loud with him in a long time. He almost smiled at the thought that good, ol' Misty might have been back. Almost. But those memories were replaced by his confusion at her words. He was rather angry obviously, but she'd returned the favor with purpose. What in particular had he said that would have upset her this much?

"Fine then. Just come inside," he twisted the lock on the fence gate so that it opened with a slight creak. Then he took a hold of her nearest hand and tugged, pulling her alongside him, "with me." The contact didn't last very long however as the two of them approached the door and Ash let go so that he could fish the house key out of his pocket again. Misty didn't seem to mind, didn't even seem to register how much it might have meant, those few seconds of holding one another.

Then the door was tossed open and they both walked inside, shaking themselves a little drier (though it didn't work properly as the rain water basically exchanged hosts). Ash put his coat on the hook again, his keys on the small table by the front door and the umbrella right beside them. He flicked the light switch and the chandelier lit up so that the two of them could see they were standing in the kitchen.

". . . Can't believe she'd just _stand _there. . . ! As if it's so hard to understand that she should go inside if it's raining. . . Stupid, ignorant. . . Making me wander out there. . ."

"Look, you didn't have to, okay?" She replied irritably. Muttering as if she weren't even there to listen! "I'm sorry you had to be outside in that for a whole two minutes. I'm sure it really ruined your fantastic mood!"

"You know what, Misty? I don't wanna hear it from you! At least I did what any _normal _person would do! Going outside to look for someone he ca-" He stopped for a moment to change tactics and then attacked her again, "-but you were just standing there! Newsflash, Misty, you don't just stand outside of wherever you happened to be boarding while a storm is going on. People don't do that! That's why the roof was created a _long _time ago!"

"Well maybe I had a reason to stand outside! Maybe being out there, even with all of the lightning and rain and wind, was better than being in here with you!" She bit back at him with a cold glare.

"Apparently that's not all you'll resort to in order to get away from me though, is it? I hope that being with the Professor and Tracey has filled you up with all the joy in the world, I hope you leave and decide to move in at the lab, I hope-" His next hope for her was interrupted by the sudden toss of a spatula that had formerly been sitting on the kitchen counter. It barely missed colliding with his head as it sailed from Misty's arm and through the archway leading into the living room.

"-Shut up! Just shut up, Ash! Don't talk about things you don't understand! I hate that place, I'll never be able to un-hate it! And you! You just have to go and act like I'm doing this all with the express purpose of hurting _you_! Don't worry, Ash, you're not that special! And maybe," here she chose to pick up something with a little more impact to throw at him, "you can bother asking _why _I would choose to leave you behind when I go somewhere!" And with her shrieking finished, she threw the glass at him, her aim mismatched due to her bitter tears so that it hit the wall behind him and shattered in sync with some more lightning from outside.

The lights went out and Ash swore while Misty continued breathing hard. Then she took one last deep gulp of air and he heard the patter of bare feet running across the linoleum tiles in the floor. That too was interrupted soon after. She had already forgotten about the glass she'd thrown and had stepped on some as she ran away from him. Thereafter, all of the fluent steps turned to uncomfortable hopping as she cursed under her breath and made her way through the archway into the living room and up the stairs. There were a few more awkward thumping sounds, like maybe she'd slipped or fallen here and there, but other than that it was silent again inside.

Ash, even more careful after knowing that Misty had hurt herself a few seconds ago, stepped to the far left of the arch as he made his way through, slowly feeling his way forward until his fingers came into contact with the plush material of the couch. He ignored the blankets that marked this space as Misty's "bed" and laid down, his mind working a million miles a minute in the dark. There was nothing else to do after all since they'd lost power.

He still didn't know what Misty had meant about hating Professor Oak's lab or why she had been so angry. But his heart pounded in his head and his nerves tingled and there was a little smile on his lips. God forbid. . . it had been a long time but he'd actually enjoyed the fight. He spent so much time avoiding people, he didn't want to start trouble or end trouble, he just wanted to exist. Misty had torn that new livelihood from him and he'd been upset at first but otherwise ignored her. It was the best thing he could do. And then she'd finally met him word for word just like the good old days. She'd gotten loud and angry and ferocious. She had lashed out like she used to and he had liked it.

He took a deep breath as the adrenaline rush finally began to fade away. They both needed this, he realized. They'd spent so much time working against each other and the world over the past few months that they had given up on themselves. He hadn't risen to a challenge in over a year, and she hadn't let herself lose control for just as long. He knew why, of course. The one thing that he remembered clearly from the day Misty had abandoned them all back in Celadon City was when she and Daisy had begun to fight about running after Giovanni. Misty had gotten loud then, too, wanting to go, threatening to hurt someone if only to make a point about how much it mattered to her. And then she'd stopped, withdrawn completely, as if terrified of her own meaning.

And by doing so she'd started to change herself. Leading alone, fighting alone, running alone, living alone. . . He had become the same way because he'd. . .

". . . Back then, it was so confusing to me even though it shouldn't have been. I mean, I was going to fight Giovanni and avenge my mom, right? Or was I doing it because of the EAB? Did I want to save the world, or myself, or. . . When I went looking for help afterwards, I couldn't think of anyone else in the end. I'm sorry, Ash, I didn't know you'd turn out this way. . ." The sound of his own name reached his ears and he gave the slightest twitch of acknowledgment but stopped soon after. Someone was speaking to him or about him. Either way he hadn't noticed them walk in the room. Then again, opening his eyes just a little allowed sunshine to peak through and he smashed them shut again right away. He hadn't noticed the storm ending or falling asleep either. What was going on?

"I guess I shouldn't take all of the credit though," and Misty gave a hollow laugh, "seeing as that would be a little self-centered of me." She was quiet for a few seconds as she gave a hard sigh and he became suddenly aware of some strange scrubbing sound coming from her direction. Still he feigned sleep. "But I had really hoped to spare you any of this. God, I'm sorry. . . I thought I was doing the right thing in leaving you behind. You tried to convince me not to chase him but. . . I had to, you know I did. It wasn't even about responsibility. It was about saving you. I was a little misguided, sure, but. . . I've always wanted to do that for you."

She seemed to drop her voice a little as if she didn't want to chance him waking up. So as she murmured to herself, he pretended to flop over in his sleep so that he could hear her better with both ears. She fell silent for a moment, worried that she'd woken him. Incidentally she had, even if it was awhile ago. Still, she was finally talking and he wasn't about to let this opportunity pass him by. It was strange how his curiosity had overlapped any hate or frustration he'd been feeling before now. And still the thought crept up on him. . . Had she done this before? Walking in on him while he was sleeping and talking to him when she thought he wouldn't be able to listen to her. God, he hoped not, seeing as that would have meant she'd spent countless nights sneaking into his room to do so.

Finally assuming that he'd just turned in his sleep, she kept going.

"Once I saw what you were doing and how you were living, I wanted to ask why. I mean, surely I didn't do all of this. But you never wanted to see me again. I knew you didn't but I couldn't stay away. So for weeks, I just kept wondering until you finally said you were going to see Professor Oak. And if I went with you and was able to discuss with him certain things, I'm sure I'd also have the chance to ask my questions. . . about you. . . And to think I was going to leave again as soon as I was healthy. . . What's left of you now. . . ?

"I'm sorry," she repeated for the third time and Ash felt a ridiculous pang of guilt shoot through him. She _should _be sorry. Why did he have to worry about her reaction when it was no fault of his? He was more anxious to hear what else she had to say. "I thought I'd be better off knowing that I would end this alone. I thought I had protected all of you and that you'd keep each other upright while I was gone. I didn't think you'd actually lose contact with everyone like this. Don't you get it, Ash? You've always thrived on people. And you already survived without me once while you journeyed the Hoenn region. How was I supposed to know this would be any different? But you decided to live alone and I couldn't stay away from you. I-" She broke off suddenly here, the scrubbing sound coming to a stop, "-Ow!"

"Ow?" He leapt up from the makeshift bed instantly, throwing off the blankets that had somehow landed on top of him sometime during the night, "What ow? What happened?" His mind faster than his body caused him to hit the ground hard as he tried and failed to stand on his feet. He crawled over to her from the three meter distance and inspected her right hand, which was bleeding just a little. However Misty was past the initial sensation of pain.

"You. . . were awake?" She seemed a little angry at this, but more scared. She hadn't even realized he was holding her hand again, the same one he'd held last night, and was inspecting the nick to her flesh.

"Ah, yeah. . . What happened?" He asked before she could respond to anything else.

"It's nothing," she started, blinking, "I just cut myself. I must have missed a piece of glass when I was sweeping up. It's fine. I'm working on the blood now."

"Huh?"

Ash hadn't noticed it at first but it was a little obvious now. The beige carpet was stained here and there with drops of scarlet. And if he squinted he could see it smeared on the first step of the stairs to his right. The two of them sat underneath the archway where the tile floor met fluffy carpet and were separated by a strip of steel nailed to the ground. The worst of the blood from last night was almost gone, in the process of being soaked up by a scrub brush Misty had found, along with a bucket of bleach water.

". . . It's fine," Misty said and tore her hand away. "You were awake. I can't believe you were awake." She turned and threw the brush into the bucket of water and got up again. This was a bad idea for her as well, seeing as she'd just removed about a dozen or so shards of glass from her foot the night before. She slipped from the pain and fell back down again. "Fuck. . ." Ash stared at her, not sure if her choice of words was in reaction to the fall or because she knew he'd been listening to her sort-of personal conversation.

"Sh - should I help. . . ?" He started asking her and held out an arm but she swatted it away. It was still hard for him to treat her like a normal person.

"No! Don't you dare, Ash! You've spent the last fifteen months hating me for what I did. I wouldn't want you to forgive me now." She bit her lip and shook her head rapidly and he felt a frown set in at her behavior. "I've been working alone for awhile now. I think I can get up on my own as long as I take my time. I really don't want your help!" She shouted a little louder as he tried to do so anyway. It was enough to get him to back away a little, ". . . I just want to fix what I broke."

"Do you mean the glass?" He asked with a furrowed eyebrow, "No offense but I don't think there's anything you can do."

"Not the glass." She hobbled over to a chair, pulling her weight up onto it. "You. I mean that I want to fix _you_. Obviously there's not much you can do to help me there. You don't even consider yourself broken." His eyes widened a little bit as he slowly approached her, walking cautiously on the wet floor. Still, hearing her talk about him like that caused fury to ripple up his back and throughout his limbs though he waited a moment longer before saying anything about it. "We've been beating around this bush for months, Ash. Go ahead and do or say whatever you want. I owe you time and answers. I thought you'd be better off not knowing them, but I can see now that we won't get past this until you hear everything. I've resigned myself to this and won't hold anything against you. Do your worst."

Something in him had begun to boil over as she talked. He had forgotten, for a split second, that he was supposed to be angry at her. Now rejuvenated and with her the willing victim, he had so much to say but not enough breath in his lungs to unleash it.

"Fix me. . . You want to _fix _me? What are you going to use, Misty? Band-aids? Tape? _Words_?" He started, glaring down at her. "It's a little late for that, isn't it? I thought I'd gotten through to you. You know, that day in Celadon when you were trying to run away - again - and do it all on your own. You waited and heard me out and I thought I'd broken through, that we could start again, rebuild each other. But you left me there. . . I felt so stupid!" He laughed bitterly, turned and faced the wall. "And everyone was looking at me like I needed to be consoled and cheered up. All I could do was wish you'd come back so I could hit you, hurt you, make you realize that I'm not the one you should abandon!" He threw a punch at the wall to add emphasis, probably not his smartest choice but his hand seemed to be relatively okay so. . . He stopped at that thought, his fists and shoulders shaking and an edge to his voice as he tried to catch his breath. Misty remained in her seat so that he could continue.

"Don't you remember? We were best friends! We were partners whether we were training together or fighting with each other! I thought you knew that too but I guess not. I was angry, I was upset. I was beaten. You beat me, Misty. Is it the victory you wanted? I sure as hell hope so. I did worry a little, I admit it, but then you came back and all of that was gone. I just wanted to show you the same hospitality that you'd shown me by pushing you away. But you wouldn't even let me do that. You waited and waited until I let you in. Was it worth it? To cause me to fear people because they might end up like you? Or like the other people you've hurt? As if trust wasn't hard enough to come by, I can't even give anyone a friggen chance!" And his fist met the wall again. There was a snapping sound this time, and neither were sure right away if it came from the boards underneath the paint or Ash's knuckles.

"But go on, Misty, go ahead. If you think you can clean up the mess you made then give it a shot. It's not like you could do to me anything worse than you've done already." He turned and walked towards her again, shaking his wrist around to ease the pain. Misty admitted to being afraid for a few seconds due to the hostility Ash had just threatened her with before realizing he was actually heading to the other seat across the table from her.

"I'm sorry." She said for the umpteenth time. It seemed like as good a place as any to start. Her sorrowful tone of voice helped to sell it. "This is why I didn't want to come back. . ." She muttered to herself. He would have asked her what she meant by that but she spoke up again. Oh well. If they were really going to hash everything out then he was sure he'd get another chance. "When I was - er - finished with Giovanni, I didn't really know what to do. Officer Jenny offered to call the Cerulean Gym for me but. . . I was scared of talking to my sisters again. I didn't want them to look at me. I thought about Brock, too. I even walked to Pewter City and stared at the Gym for awhile, wondering if he'd be home or if you guys were still traveling around but I chickened out when I saw the Gym up close. It looked abandoned. And May's family was out too, seeing as they were all the way out in Hoenn. And they probably hate me for what I did to her. I was just so," she faltered here as though trying to come up with the right word to describe it, "_tired_. Finally I decided that you might be the best choice anyway. I figured there was a fifty-fifty chance that you were at home with your mom because of her. . . health condition. As much as you wanted to train to be Pokemon Master, you always cared about your family just as much."

". . . You're right. I cared about a lot of things." He conceded after a few moments of silence. Dammit, he wasn't supposed to be giving her answers as well! "But my mom died about eight months ago." He decided not to give any details on that. He still wanted Misty to suffer at least a little bit. "I will always put my family first, and my Pokemon, and my friends. . . I love all of them more than anything. I loved you too."

Ash decided he was all in just as Misty realized she had probably known this for a long time. Why else had she chosen to seek Ash out two years ago when she had been forced to make a move for or against her father? Because she knew he'd help her, because she knew she was important to him and he'd do whatever he could for her. Hadn't she even thought to herself at the time that running away from him would be useless because he would put his dreams on hold just to find her again? But to actually be here now with him telling her what she had been yearning to know for so long. . . She felt her chest clench up and her eyes start to pepper with the burning of tears. Shit. She didn't want to cry, but then she did. And she wanted to yell and kick and throw things some more too.

"All this time. . ." But he must have felt that he was making the wrong approach because he shook it off and tried to start over, "It was always going to be said but I never thought I'd have to say it like this. I was so in love with you back then that it was hard to see straight. No wonder Brock was always laughing at me. . . And then I was excited when you said you were going to meet up with us in Hoenn and journey with me again. I had been so long without you and I thought things would feel normal for me again with you there. That maybe I could finally tell you everything. It would have been perfect. . . Of course then it turned out Team Rocket was hunting you and Giovanni was your father. I still thought it'd be okay. I could put my feelings on hold for a little while longer. I mean, I'd ignored them for three years and endured them knowingly for three more. I was sure I could make it. And in discovering all of these new things about you, I knew that we would work out. You trusted me. You told me everything I'd been curious about, everything I'd questioned at some point or another. . . You _did _trust me, didn't you?" His elbows were on the table as he faced her, his head in his hands. He released a long sigh. He'd gotten through the worst of it.

"But. . . no, you didn't. You chose to side with a homicidal maniac hellbent on world domination because he what? Threatened us with a needle? If only you'd known everything I would go through for you. Poison is nothing compared to that. . . Think about it, Misty. I put myself at risk time and time again for a world I was just barely starting to know back then. I was constantly hurting myself, jumping over cliffs, being lifted into the sky against my will, almost drowning, facing evil, for Pikachu because he was my best friend. Imagine what I would have done for _you_." Well, at least he didn't seem as angry anymore.

It was the kind of clarity she had chosen to ignore all this time. Again, she had probably known this for awhile. Ash was Ash. He didn't even have to love her to know what he would go through for her. She was a friend so he cared. It was pretty simple without love even working itself into the equation. But when it smashed itself through her emotional doors anyway, she was reminded of why she'd chosen to follow Giovanni's orders. This hadn't been a matter of finding a cure for a slowly activated poison had it? No, he would have lasted at most a few minutes. All of which she would have suffered through. So she was a coward. She had long ago understood that about herself. This had been certain death. He would have died. And she would not have only watched him go but been the cause of it all along. But still. . .

So she finally knew the reason for his behavior - for _her _behavior. As it turned out, she would do anything for him just the same as he would do anything for her. Jumping over cliffs, lying, drowning, deceiving, facing evil. The whole deal. Ash would fight the world to keep her safe. And now that she realized that, she could face her personal demons. She would fight the world to keep Ash safe too. It had been beyond cowardice, beyond simple human relations. . . The two of them loved each other so much they would put themselves through anything. They were the same. It wasn't about not loving. It was about loving too much.

The only problem was that they'd chosen to keep those feelings from each other. Now Ash had told her how strongly he felt and considered himself alone. Emotionally, she had turned on him long ago, at least as far as he knew. She hadn't joined Team Rocket because she loved him too much to put him in danger. She had joined Team Rocket because she couldn't trust him to take care of himself or the others. Somehow she knew she had to fix that.

"I. . . loved you too. Jeezus, Ash, I guess you were just too dense to tell." He glanced up at her with a scowl at her insult but she continued speaking before he could actually respond. "Did you think you were the only one in the entire world who would do anything for someone you loved? All of those times I protected Togepi like she was my own daughter, all of the times I'd acted like a family with you and your Pokemon. Just because you're too quick at taking action to think things through doesn't mean you're the only person to ever put others before yourself. I would have run barefoot through fields of fire for you. It just turned out that my field of fire was Giovanni. So don't think you were in this alone. I'm the same as you, doing anything I could think of to keep you alive.

"You're right though. I had dreams too, and I had prayed that they all would happen someday. . . But I wasn't meant to be happy, I guess." It seemed that her emotional weight had suddenly tripled and she rubbed at her dry eyes and sniffed as though trying to clear her head. This gave Ash a moment to comprehend everything that she'd said.

"Wh - what do you mean. . . ?"

"Hah. . ." And with the weakest laugh, she continued, ". . . I - yesterday, I was so close to running away again. I mean, you saw me, you could tell. Couldn't you? I was staring at this stupid house like it was going to sprout legs and attack me. I wanted to go, too, even if I didn't know where. But. . . Professor Oak had told me what had happened to you. How your mom had died and what you'd been doing with yourself - or not - since then. Maybe he thought I could help you, as if it were even slightly possible when I'm so messed up, myself. It tore me up inside. . . I couldn't dare put you back together. You weren't a favorite toy from my childhood, you were a person. Someone that I had even done the damage to. So I was going to leave because. . . maybe because I thought it would somehow fix you on its own. After what I had to do at the lab yesterday. . . I just couldn't. . ." But she failed miserably here in telling him what he needed to know.

Ash did understand his own curiosity and frustration. He wanted her to tell him why she'd been visiting the lab almost everyday for the past couple months. And she had been so close in divulging the answer! How could she stop now? Worse yet, how could he ask her to continue when she looked so distraught about the whole thing? Even if she _had _told him she would answer all of his questions. . . But it was this conclusion that allowed him permission to ask.

"What happened? What did you do?"

"Yesterday, after weeks of preparation, someone from the League finally came and. . . killed Psyduck. . . All I have left is his Pokeball," which must have been the item she'd hid from him outside the day before.

"Wh. . . What?" He asked incredulously, leaping from his seat at the defense of any Pokemon that would be harmed by a human being. As little as he thought of her already, he had never once considered that Misty would allow a Pokemon - let alone one of her own that she'd trained with for years - get taken and murdered. "Why?"

"You don't tell a ten year old these kinds of things."

"What the hell does that mean? I'm not ten years old anymore!"

"No, you're not. . . so I can tell you now. But back when you had first started training, you didn't know any better. You weren't supposed to. But all Gym Leaders and League associates are told when entered into the system that they are obligated to report any Pokemon who defies and harms a human trainer who hasn't threatened them first. Honestly," and she broke off here with a wry grin, "you have no idea how many times I was going to report Charmeleon or Charizard. But I knew that Damion had abused him, we all did, so I held myself back. Brock too.

"Pokemon trainers starting out at age ten don't know anything about this law. Most trainers never even have that kind of problem, they never come into contact with Pokemon who don't obey them unless they haven't been captured yet. The Pokeball is more than just a contraption to contain a Pokemon, it's a psychological bond that is formed between Pokemon and trainer. That's why most Pokemon you've heard or seen abusing their trainer are ones that have been traded or abandoned at some point. And that's why I never reported Charizard. I was hoping that he would learn to trust you somewhere along the way. And he did."

"B - but Psyduck didn't, not that I ever knew of-!"

"No, you wouldn't know since I haven't told you yet." She faltered here and glanced up at him, fierce expression and all, "Sit down, Ash. Acting that way isn't going to get you answers any faster than I was originally planning on giving them." And after he did indeed regain his seat, she began her story once again. "After I ran away from you guys in Celadon, I chased Giovanni around Kanto for almost a year. I figured he was going to try and restart Team Rocket so I looked in every city that had ever been attacked by a large squad, and then I moved on to sub-HQ because he was going to try and salvage what was left. Only there was _nothing _left. I had turned over all Team Rocket locations to Alyssa during the trial, and she had obviously turned them over to Officer Jenny, who would have passed them out to her family. So finally Giovanni decided he had no choice but to backtrack to his roots, the Viridian Gym. If he could sneak in there and get past the security team and the new Gym Leader, he could find the secret entrance to his initial headquarters. But I found him before he even reached the city, just on the edge of Viridian Forest."

Her mind flashed back to that day, her senses immediately haywire at the adrenaline spike. She could still see the new cluster of trees covering what had formerly been another entrance into the Viridian Rocket base. She could smell pine and yet the sharp scent of civilization hung somewhere in the sky. It had been a long time since she'd been around people. She knew, just _knew_, that he'd be here. And sure enough, when he had exited through the overgrown brush behind her and began his approach, she was almost too confident. Until she laid eyes on the gun in his hand. No, he probably knew it was over for him. . . but he still had no problem taking her down with him.

"And then what?" Ash asked her, and she snapped back to the present. At this point she wasn't even sure what she'd told him last but she'd keep going anyway.

"And then we struggled. He threatened me. . . He had a gun. I. . . I remember him shooting me in the hand. I thought for sure I'd never be able to use it again without some sort of medical assistance." Ash seemed slightly alarmed, remembering the mangled flesh he'd seen some odd few months earlier. He hadn't known what she'd done to it but having it almost blasted off seemed to earn the slightest bit of sympathy from him. "I remember slicing him in the wrist, stabbing myself in the shoulder because I was so terrified and in pain that I could barely move." Her nerves had been shot, she had probably been going into shock. She still didn't know how she'd been able to pull herself back and continue fighting.

"Because of the training he'd forced me into while I was a member of Team Rocket, I was able to use my age and the foliage to its full advantage. But when I leapt up into the trees, I. . . dropped something. I didn't notice right away, and I think Giovanni was so focused on ending me that he didn't either." Misty wasn't very confident in admitting to Ash that she barely remembered anything after that. The pain had refused to numb while she kept forcing herself to move forward. She knew that she'd thrown her pocketknife at him somewhere along the line, hoping it would make contact and impale itself somewhere vital. Giovanni would have had to stop and nurse himself for at least a minute, remove the blade or choose to leave it be in case of it causing more blood loss. . .

"But it didn't land. I wasn't able to find it after. . . Well, I know that he was able to scout my position because of that _stupid _move. He shot up at me and, though he didn't get me obviously, he did manage to crack the tree branch I was in. I fell and hit the ground, and I scrambled to find the knife but couldn't. I was sca - I mean. . . I was going to call on one of my Pokemon but I couldn't. I didn't want them to do something that would get them killed later," which had been a moot option at that point anyway. "Then Giovanni was going to end me, I finally screamed. . . He laughed at me and then there was a flash of red light."

Ash thought at first that she meant it mentally, as in she had snapped and done something crazy. Though what was crazier than seeking out a psychotic man in hopes of returning him to the hands of justice? But next thing, Misty had elaborated on just what she meant.

"It. . . turns out that the thing I dropped when I climbed up into the tree was a Pokeball. Psyduck's Pokeball. You know him. . . He always shows up just when it's inconvenient." And as bitter as she sounded, she gave a slight cry of despair. She had hoped and prayed to keep her Pokemon out of it. Why had she taken them with her on that journey? She still didn't have an answer to that. "B - but even then. . . Psyduck wanted to defend me." She hadn't been able to tell at the time if her Pokemon had recognized Giovanni as someone who had imposed his torturous stay at Team Rocket or if he had been as impulsive as he had years previously when overcome by his psychic power.

Still she remembered how Psyduck's eyes had glowed an electrifying blue and he had silently lifted the man off his feet. The power he was exerting wasn't even enough to stress his limits. To think that a life could be threatened so easily by a creature with his kind of strength. Giovanni had choked for air as psychic power clenched his throat shut, even twitching the neck left and right as though wanting to snap it to pieces. But Psduck admittedly relented when Misty called out for him to stop. She had never, ever wanted to put her Pokemon at risk for this mission! She would have rather died alone!

"Misty. . . you're crying." Ash's voice caused a shock wave to course through her and she almost slipped from her seat. Then she realized he was right and began to wipe at the tears with her hands but they didn't stop. She was furious with herself. She hadn't even noticed them and now she would have to see past them while Ash stared blankly at her because he was like most guys, never knowing what to do with a crying girl. "I'll get you something. Hold on." He rose from his seat and walked around her towards the kitchen sink, over which hung a paper towel dispenser. He wet it with warm water and then turned and handed it to her. "This'll do for now, I hope." And he was sitting across from her again, ready for her to talk some more.

"I didn't know what to do. By the time I realized what was happening and had called Psyduck off, Giovanni was already laying on the ground, barely moving. All I could think was that it was over, finally over. But I was still scared. Giovanni wasn't dead and I couldn't kill him anymore. He wasn't. . . himself at that point. And Psyduck was just standing there looking at me as if he couldn't see what he'd done, as if he were waiting for me to order him to do something else. . . I found his Pokeball and called him back and just sat there for the rest of the day. I cleaned myself up with the last of my supplies, trying to stitch myself back together and. . ." She took a moment to wipe away more tears from her face because they wouldn't stop falling no matter what she tried, "Shit," she muttered again furiously but had moved on soon after, ". . . And I waited for him to get back up but he didn't. He wasn't dead but Psyduck had put so much pressure on his brain that he'd caused permanent damage. I didn't sleep that night so I was wide awake when Giovanni vacated his bowels. And then I finally understood. . . he would never recover and I was just biding time trying to figure out what to do about his body."

Over the course of the next thirty minutes, Misty went on to explain how she'd put her best face on and sought out Viridian City's Officer Jenny the next day. The women recognized each other from the year before and Jenny had known to believe Misty's story when the two went back to investigate her father. Giovanni's body was taken into custody, placed in the hospital until the League and government could get together to figure out what to do with him. Misty may have been his daughter by blood but she was in no state or place to be his medical council.

Misty explained everything to her audience in Viridian about the gun, the knife which had been found during investigation of the scene, she told them all about their injuries. He had shot her, she had cut him, stabbed herself in order to keep moving. The only thing she neglected to mention was that her Psyduck had been the one to deal the final blow. Why? Because she knew what they would do to him. Admittedly, she knew what she had to do as well but. . . but she couldn't do it just yet. She was too wounded in every sense of the word. As far at they knew, it could have been caused by his own body malfunctioning (he was an elderly man after all), or by another Pokemon, one who had wandered into the area and had been hostile towards the violent intruder.

Eventually Giovanni was pronounced a vegetable and the League decided to pull the plug. She didn't have to stay long enough for the autopsy, and had been released after giving her statement and waiting around a few extra weeks for verification from the crime scene investigators. Officer Jenny had begged her to go to the hospital and be seen for her own injuries but she had declined, her mind a million miles away. Since she wasn't in life threatening danger from them anymore, the officer had no choice but to let her go in the end. And so Misty had set her sights on her next destination. . . But where was she to go?

Of course she'd already explained why she'd chosen to see Ash, and why she'd ended up regretting it time and time again. Now he knew the whole story as well, why she had to stay with him even when she was so put off by who he'd turned into. She had to see Professor Oak about Psyduck, which led back to the League. They had been disappointed in her for not disclosing the truth about Psyduck's involvement at first but she had done the right thing in the end, and she told them she'd always planned to. They knew she had been damaged psychologically by the events and let her keep the rest of her other Pokemon. It was an extraordinary case and great circumstances led to even greater solutions. She herself was not a dangerous person, she had tried to keep her Pokemon out of it, had told Psyduck to stop torturing the man as soon as she came to and saw what was happening. Reasonable doubt led to her freedom.

But truth had a price of its own, didn't it? And now Psyduck was just as gone as his Craudant, or Brock's Vulpix. . .

"It's. . . okay, Misty." Dare she believe that he was trying to comfort her? Even if she knew very well that it would _never _be okay. She had done so many wrong things and had ended up having to end a life because of what? Because she had been taught from a young age to believe that Pokemon should never wrong someone who had not first immediately wronged them. But Psyduck had been more like family than Giovanni, more sympathetic and familial and. . . He had not deserved the fate he'd been dealt! "It will be okay. Psyduck was doing it to save you. Cry with everything you've got. . . You're in mourning. It's okay to cry when you're mourning over the death of family."

She didn't realize it at first but her head had hit the tabletop and her arms were thrust outward and she was wailing into the tablecloth. The next thing she knew, a hand was covering hers and gripping her clasped fist in a soft and caring way. When she finally looked up again, she was able to see Ash's face just enough to notice he was crying too.

Ash had neglected tears when his mom died, something that only a few people were close enough to know. Maybe it was because he knew she would die long before it happened, because she was the last thing the world could take from him before he would turn to nothing. . . Maybe it was because he'd loved her so much that there were not enough tears in the world to shed. He hadn't been in the mood to look for answers at the time of her death or, later on, her funeral. He had just been silent and bitter throughout all of it, including when Professor Oak had pulled him into a hug afterwards and wept for the woman as well.

But he could cry now, or at least that's what his heart was telling him. He was strong enough to truly handle the grief. Someone else was grieving as well. He would not be alone in this sweet surrender. He and Misty would recover together for all that they had lost and they would relish in the fact that they had finally found something they could build back up. . . even if that something happened to be each other.

OoO

After their breakthrough, the two of them set out together to try and clean up the mess that had been made the night before. Unfortunately, the blood had set into the carpet and dried and the two of them weren't sure about using bleach, which led to them paving another path forward.

"Hey Brock, we. . . haven't talked in awhile so. . ." Ash ended here when the phone had stopped ringing and he was looking at the face of one of his oldest friends, "How are you doing? How's the Gym?" It was noted that he looked relatively well, maybe a little tired and unshaven, but still.

Brock didn't respond at first, presumably getting over the shock of Ash actually reaching out to him after so long. The two of them had remained in contact after Misty had left, though they had never resumed traveling. Ash had said that he needed to stay home with his mom at least for a little while, to make sure she was okay. Of course, she had never been able to recover, had instead gotten worse, and after her death. . . well. . . Ash had given up on people. Brock had tried to push for some socializing but he had been blocked every which way he tried to turn, even when it had to do with cooking or going out to restaurants, the same avenue that Professor Oak had attempted to use.

This in turn had caused him to break a little more as well. He hadn't realized that Ash had fallen so far after Misty failing him emotionally but then thinking of it, it made all the more sense. Ash had loved her after all, and had attempted to revive their relationship at least a few times. But then Misty was gone, crack number one. And May had returned home before they'd even been able to help her recover from her paranoia, crack number two. At this point he'd lost his outgoing persona. And finally, the coup de grace, Mrs. Ketchum had died. That had been all his psyche could handle. Since then, the two of them had not said more than five words to each other. Now Ash had called him out of the blue and said twice as much in one breath.

"Ash?"

". . . That's right. Uh, are you okay?"

"Is it really you, Ash?"

"Yeah," the smallest of comforting smiles before he continued, "How have you been? How's your. . . family?" The word had become rather hard for him to say since he'd lost his own.

"They're fine. They're gone." Then he caught his almost-slip up and tried again, "I mean, all of my siblings left on their journey. Dad had some trouble running the Gym about five months ago so I stepped back in as leader until the League could train an assistant and send them out here to help him. They should be here in a few weeks." He didn't know what else to say that wouldn't be taboo after so long, so he trailed off.

"Oh." Another small smile, flashing by so quickly that it was impossible to tell if it was real or not. "Well it's good to know that you're doing well. Um, anyway, there was a reason I called and, you know, since you were always good when it came to these kinds of things. . ."

"What things? What can I do to help? Anything." He said it desperately because all he had wanted to do all along was _help_. It was just hard to know how to save someone from things they couldn't accept, or rather, from themselves.

"Uh, well, I have some blood stains on my carpet and I was sort of wondering what I should use to get them up?"

Brock stared at him for a moment longer than necessary, obviously trying to figure out how Ash had lost any blood at all, let alone enough to mess up the floor. For the life of him, he just couldn't figure out what would cause something like that unless the injuries were many in number and self-inflicted. Or maybe he was attacked, as unlikely as it was for someone like him who never left home and who had barely any enemies left. But he chose to ask anyway.

"How did you get blood on the carpet?" He asked, his tone somewhere between a distraught friend and an authoritative parental figure. His words were cut off as another relatively familiar face floated on-screen, Misty finally making her reappearance.

"Hi. . . Brock." Funny how the name of someone you never expected to hear from again could sound so foreign on your lips.

"Misty. Oh gods, Misty, it's you. . ." A hand crept to his brow, sweeping through his hair as he began a deep breathing regimen. He couldn't believe this. After so long wondering what had become of her, after expecting to turn on the news and hear of a body being found matching her description, after praying that somehow, she would realize where she was needed, she would mysteriously reappear and work things out. . . Had she? Had they? But then, Ash had mentioned blood. A quick glance at his two old friends from through the monitor told him that - whatever the case was - they weren't hurt that badly. No cuts or bruises, well, except for. . .

"Ash, what happened to your hand?"

"My. . . ?" Ash seemed confused until he looked down at it. He hadn't even noticed it himself until just then, the way the knuckles had swollen purple. In truth, it didn't really hurt too much, rather giving an uncomfortable tingling sensation. "Oh, it just got. . . banged up a bit. A heat of the moment thing. I guess I'll regret it later but for now it seems to be okay. . . I think. . . Why are you asking?"

"Why? Because you were talking about blood on your carpet! And now I hear that Misty's suddenly there with you! And your hand, and the blood, and what else was I supposed to think except for you guys had started a fight to the death between the two of you but it had somehow gotten disrupted because there was enough blood to notice so you had to stop and call me to figure out what to do! Although I can't understand how you'd interrupt something as crucial as that just to deal with the clean up but I'm just happy you finally contacted me after so long and I really can't believe Misty's there with you too and how long has she been staying with you anyway? Because she's wearing your clothes from what I can tell and, dear god, Ash, tell me you didn't do something like _that _because that's definitely not how you want to reacquaint yourselves with one another-" He finally had to stop for a moment, if only to catch his breath after that hell of a rant.

"Jeezus, Brock, slow down!" Although Ash had enough grace to be embarrassed by what his friend was insinuating, "No, nothing like that happened. Not really. It's just that she doesn't have anything else to wear right now. And the blood is from. . ." He didn't want to broach the subject of their fight, and he didn't want to get into the details of the story that fight had led to. They would get there in time but for now, he had other things he wanted to deal with. Firstly, the blood, and secondly, well. . . it was just really nice to see a friendly face. "It's fine Brock, don't worry about it too much. It's not that bad, just a couple drops here and there. Misty cut her foot and was _dense _enough," here was payback for her calling him the exact same thing earlier that morning, "to walk around on it so we're just trying to clean up the mess she made." She glared at him, enough for Brock to notice.

"So. . . how are the two of. . ." But Ash cut him off again, something he was finding very irritating very fast.

"We'll talk about that some other time. Can you help me out with the blood?"

"Sure, Ash, whatever. . . There are a couple of recipes you can use for it. Do you have a pen and paper? The first one is rather simple but the second takes some scientific knowledge so. . ." Brock went on to explain the use of hydrogen peroxide, followed by a rather detailed instruction on diluted dish detergent and a timetable. Ash wrote fervently for the next few minutes while both Misty and Brock stared him down.

"There! Thanks Brock. I'm gonna go try this now so I'll talk to you in a little while. . ."

Ash was quick to jump to his feet and take off around the corner leading back into the kitchen where he and Misty had left the bucket of bleach water earlier on. He dumped it all out into the sink and started anew, leaving the other two of them to sit there and wait for the other one to say something. Truth be told, he was a bit too quick, and Misty and Brock had to wonder if he'd planned his escape so that they would have a moment alone together to catch up without him invading on it. It was a rather sweet gesture, though Misty still wasn't sure what to say or, in fact, if she really had anything to say at all.

"Ash says you two haven't talked in awhile. . . But you seem as close as always, don't you?" She practically teased with a small smile. It had always been easier to crack a joke rather than approach the topic seriously. Brock wasn't very amused at the possibility of it though so he tried to take the comment seriously.

"Yeah, well, believe it. A couple months after you left, Mrs. Ketchum died and he didn't know what to do with himself so he holed up back home and refused to contact me at all. Don't worry, Misty, neither of us _suffered _much by having to ignore one another." He told her bitterly with a small glare. She heaved a sharp breath. She had already faced one person so angry with her choice to run after Giovanni that she wasn't sure she'd survive the encounter. Did Brock plan on allowing her the same treatment?

"Do you realize that, even now, he's hurting so much from being around you that he's left you to me? He trusts me to hurt you because - whatever you guys did to break the ice - it's forced his hand. He doesn't think he's capable of doing all of the horrible things he'd originally wanted to do to you anymore. He didn't leave us alone to catch up. He left us alone so that I could yell at you and tell you to stop ruining him and to get away before you make it all worse. . ." He faltered here as her eyes went wide from the acknowledgment. It wasn't that she hadn't known necessarily. She'd always been able to gage Ash's responses best of all of them. . . Even now, when she wasn't sure who he was anymore, she could still figure him out better than most.

". . . But I don't know if I can do that. Because, despite what Ash may think he needs, seeing you again has forced him to change. And it's for the better. He's contacted me for the first time in almost a year just to ask about stain removal. He has a thousand other sources for that, such as the Internet, where he could avoid talking to people altogether. But seeing you again has made him realize that he can't live that way forever."

"Th - thank you for saying that-"

"-No, don't thank me, because I'm certainly not thanking you. Don't get me wrong Misty, I'm happy that you're safe and I'm glad that you and Ash are. . . _trying_, if nothing else. But don't think that you can fix it all just like _that_," and he snapped his fingers on-screen for good effect, Misty flinching at the sound, "when you couldn't even decide a year ago if you could take his words of advice about Giovanni to heart. He was trying so hard back then to make you see how much he loved you, more than almost anyone, because even the greatest fool could tell you were suffering internally. But what you did to him when you ran off after your father, well, it. . ." He sighed here, finally drawing his argument to a close, ". . . Let's just say it was the one battle he never stood a chance against winning."

Misty stared at him before finally collapsing into the seat Ash had vacated about two minutes ago. She could feel her eyes start to prickle with tears again but knew it was useless. It would make her feel a little bit better, but she'd rather feel better when nobody was around to witness her spectacle. So she took a few deep breaths and calmed herself, the feeling receding back and vanishing a few seconds later.

"I can't do this to you much more. It's not really my place. I am happy that you're alive though, please understand that. Just promise me something, okay?" He asked her, waiting for her nod before he continued, "Promise me that, as hard as things are going to get for the two of you, that you won't run off and disappear on him again. I don't know what any of us will do if Ash loses that last piece of himself but it won't be pleasant for you. I can assure you that much."

Misty gave a slightly melancholy grin as she replied to his statement. She knew what she had to do after all. She had other promises to keep besides this one.

"Don't worry, Brock. I don't plan on it."

A few days later, however, she was making plans. Not to run, no, but to continue repairing Ash's damaged persona. Of course he knew nothing of this, though she did have some help from Tracey.

In fact, she would have to thank him sometime later since he'd ensured the two of them some private time with Ash's Pokemon.

"I. . . I still don't see why you have to come though. I mean, I have nothing against seeing Pikachu and Meganium and the others, but why do you need to be there? What's the point in it?" Ash asked her as they approached the front door of the lab once again after what seemed too long ago. "Besides, I thought you. . . hated this place." He had hoped to phrase it with a more subtle tone but the words had slipped out before he could think them over.

But since when had he wanted to think over his harsh mannerisms towards her anyway?

"I do," though she sounded more scared than angry, "but this is important to you, right? And it's not like I'm going to bother you. _You're _going to see _your _Pokemon. I'm just along for the ride." She rung the doorbell as soon as they'd reached the front stoop. Truthfully, it seemed like she wanted to move on as fast as possible. Then again, Psyduck's execution had taken place _inside _the lab and they were going out back. Maybe she was just trying to reach the place where she wouldn't be constantly reminded of what had happened. Outside staring at the pastures and Pokemon houses and interacting with friends she hadn't seen in a fair few years. . . This might've been good for her too. Or, well, better than he'd originally thought it would.

"Oh, there you two are! You ran a little late, huh? It's fine though, it gave me more time to set up." Tracey gave the two of them a friendly grin as he yanked the door wide open and let them in, pointing towards the hallway he and Ash had traveled through last time they were here. "I pulled all of your Pokemon from their ranches, Ash, and I set up a picnic table. And Professor Oak said we could put the others back in their houses. Go have fun, okay?"

"Um, sure. . ." Ash replied with a furrowed brow. He distinctly felt like he was missing out on something important.

"Pikapi. . . !" Pikachu exclaimed when he caught sight of his trainer. Of course, that was nothing compared to the overly-emphatic reaction he had to the next person he laid his eyes on. "Pikachupi!" And he took off for the two of them, changing course at the very last second and leaping into his master's arms. It was hard to act as though Misty wasn't a friend anymore, even knowing how many times she'd wronged Ash. But he was loyal first to his trainer before anyone else he'd met.

"Hey, Pikapal!" Ash hugged him close and reacted a lot more enthusiastic than last time. When he'd finally pulled away just enough to notice his facial expression, he gulped and gave his permission. "Go ahead, buddy. I mean, I don't mind if you greet Misty too. I guess that's _really _why she's here." And he threw a slight glare back at her for basically lying to him before. Then he loosened his grip and let Pikachu leap away, exchanging hosts.

"Pikachupi!" Pikachu yelped again after his lunge, rubbing affectionately against Misty's chin. It was a little awkward at first, especially when Misty felt a small bolt of electricity course through her (probably Pikachu's warning or punishment for what she'd done to Ash), but she accepted the pleasant feeling of an old friend who didn't want to throw her away immediately after. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been granted acceptance from someone who could also judge her unworthy.

While Pikachu and Misty got reacquainted, Ash gathered around some of his other Pokemon that he hadn't gotten the chance to see last time. Again, Meganium was at the front of the line, but he did meet up with Heracross and Bulbasaur soon after, and even his Tauros rampaged around them at some point before vanishing mysteriously into another part of the preserve. Muk slithered by and tackled him to the ground, holding him there in his version of a hug.

It felt good, though it was something he hadn't prepared for. He didn't want it to feel good. He didn't want to experience that sensation that came with evaluating his former accomplishments because it always led to more disappointment in himself that he couldn't haphazardly run around and play that character and that game anymore. But why not? What was really keeping him from doing just that? This question was answered as he stared at his own hands - one bandaged up so that the bruised knuckles could heal and the other one gripping at his thigh, his fingernails digging into his jeans. Dammit. . . Just what the hell did he still have to be scared of?

But that question didn't have an answer just yet, unlike the others that he was slowly deciphering

He and Misty sat down to lunch with all of his Pokemon, the table set for three so that Pikachu could join them. Unfortunately, most of the others were too large to sit on the benches or squat on top, so they had to eat beside them on the ground. Before the two of them had noticed it, a couple of hours had passed them by. Misty had started befriending the Pokemon she hadn't met yet who had been captured in Hoenn and survived the encounter with Team Rocket's researchers, also reintroducing herself to those she had watched Ash capture before leaving him behind in Viridian City when she was fifteen years old.

Her brow furrowed as she thought it over, taking a bite out of a sandwich Tracey had made for them earlier that day. She hadn't realized until just now how many experiences she'd had to face in Viridian. How could she have not seen it before? It was where she met Ash, where she left Ash, where she had to capture Ash and take him to her father, where she had found her father again and put an end to him. Honestly, she was beginning to hate that place. (Speaking of which, how did she not hate it already?)

"Something wrong?" Ash found time to ask her even as he continued to contentedly watch Pikachu nibble at his Poke Chow.

"No, nothing, not really. . ." And she went back to staring through him even as he sat there, watching Pikachu with a sad smile. Something, maybe a quote she'd read somewhere before, came to mind as she took in the sight.

_"Some stories about humankind leave me to believe that there is hope for us while others make me think that we stand no chance against retribution and must be living on borrowed time."_

_Which story do I want to help write? _It was the last courageous burst needed to make her move. So with nerves of steel and a stubborn mind, Misty went for it.

"Hey Ash," she said the name as if it _didn't _terrify her to know that she was here, now, doing this to the both of them again, "since we're here, why don't we have a Pokemon battle? It's been awhile and I bet Pikachu could use the exercise."

But at the very sound of such a challenge, Ash and Pikachu both froze, their breath stolen from them. Misty was right, then. It had been a _very_ long time since they'd trained together. Pikachu looked torn, as confident as he'd been so long ago but also facing the mortal distress of his trainer. What would he be more loyal to? His own instincts or Ash, who looked ready to make a run for it?

A coward? Maybe. But it should have been just as hard for anybody else who was forced to travel back down the path long abandoned.

"No. . . thank you." He forced himself to say as politely as possible, but he was indeed panicking.

"Why not?" She asked in reply, taking a small sip of her drink to hide her face and concentrate on any of the possible things he could say back to her.

"Gee, I don't know," he started sarcastically, but she beat him to the punch in terms of a smart-assed comeback.

"Oh, well, I think I do. Are you scared that I might beat you? I mean, I can see why I guess. For all you know, I've been spending the past few months training here while you've been sitting at home doing nothing. I guess you should be worried, I guess you _should _decline my challenge. You know, since you've lost your edge."

"Wh - what the hell?" He started, leaping from his seat in frustration at her immature tactics. Pikachu was up in arms too, hardly daring to believe that Misty would do this to his trainer when he was in such a fragile state. But at the same time, he wondered. . .

"It has nothing to do with me losing my edge! I - I mean, it's not true! I'm just as good a trainer as I was a few years ago. I could take you on any day! Just. . . just not today. I don't feel like _hurting _your Pokemon!" Which could have translated into something along the lines of, "I only want to hurt _you_!" The thought frightened Misty a little, since she'd hoped the two of them would have moved on some but apparently not. Had she chosen to do this too soon for him to stand?

"Right. I'm sure you could, seeing as you haven't participated in a battle in a good two years now. Don't hold back for _my _sake, Ash; I think I'll manage to be okay." She gave the kind of theatrical sigh that would have amused him if she hadn't done so many bad things to him over the past couple of years, but all he could see now was red.

"Dammit, Misty, shut up before I make you! You don't know what you're talking about, you-"

"-I, I, I what? Don't stand there making threats unless you plan to actually do something. You're sort of a disappointment, Ash. I remember times when you would have put someone, anyone, else in their place by now for telling you off like I am. I guess you're okay with being a loser-"

"What the fuck?"

"-coward-"

"Shut up!"

"-second-rate, second-class-"

"I'm serious!"

"-sorry excuse for a trainer." She watched him as he stared her down, breathing fire from his nose in fury, before giving it one last go. "You know what? I don't think you quit training because of what happened with me, or because of your mom. You quit because you knew all along that you'd never stand a chance in the end when it came to professional tournament matches. Everything else that's happened was just a convenient excuse. You took the easy way out, didn't you?"

"Dammit, that's it!" He shouted, his self-control shattered by her insults. How could she. . . ? How _dare _she? And he thought that the two of them were beyond those things! For her to bring to light all of his fears and failures because she what? Needed someone to call temporary competition? Well, she would fucking get hers and that was for sure! "Pikachu, what do you say? One on one against Misty?" Pikachu nodded affirmatively and the two of them faced the redhead again, "You're going to regret saying all of those things!"

Misty gave the most confident smile she could afford before replying, "Bring it on."

The two of them didn't have a referee as Tracey had to deal with paperwork and neither of them had seen Professor Oak yet that day but they didn't really care. Well, Ash was too pissed off to do so and Misty knew better. They didn't have much time to spare and she was sure that Ash wouldn't abuse his Pokemon on the battlefield. Not that she would try to do so either.

The next thing they knew, both of them were facing each other, a spread of sixty square meters worth of green land acre between them.

"I choose you, Pikachu!" And Pikachu leapt forward with an indignant shout of his own name.

"Let's see. . ." Misty contemplated and removed something from a belt that had been lassoed around her waist, hidden by the too-long tee-shirt she was wearing. "Ah, this should be alright. I choose you, Gyarados!" And she threw the Pokeball forward onto the field where it popped open, releasing a red light that formed the silhouette of a large, dragon-like creature. The Pokeball snapped shut once more and flew back into Misty's hand and she clasped it to the belt again until she would have to retrieve her Pokemon later on.

Gyarados let out a ferocious roar, though he seemed more content than anything after being cooped up inside for so long. He twisted his head around to stare at his trainer, the redhead he hadn't seen in months, before turning to finally get a look at his opponent. To his shock - (dismay?) - it was the boy she was supposedly friends with. He had only faced this boy once before, but even then it hadn't been as an adversary. When you were friends with someone, weren't you supposed to get along? He looked much angrier than someone battling for the sake of friendly competition. What the hell was going on?

However he didn't have much time to gather any answers.

"Pikachu, use _Iron Tail_!" Ash shouted, and Pikachu nodded and started dashing forward at top speed. And considering his was a mouse-based Pokemon - yeah, that was pretty fast even without the boost of _Agility. _And still, the sea dragon's "enemy" was gaining in strength, his tail starting to glow the white light of something coated in silver steel.

"Gyarados, _Protect _yourself!" Misty called out, shocked already. Ash was battling with a type advantage. How come he hadn't started out with an electrical attack and made for a quick lead? But she couldn't dwell on it when she had a point to make. "Then use your head!" This was translated into his _Headbutt_ technique, which he approved of. He slithered forward with another roar, and Pikachu's tail made perfect contact. However the combination of the _Protect _and his trainer's quick thinking on counter-offensive knowledge caused a recoil for both of them and they bounced back, propelled towards their trainers again.

"Fine then, if you want to play it rough. . . But I'm not going to give up!" Ash shouted, then blinked with wide eyes at his own resolution. He hadn't even wanted to do this in the beginning, had he? But he shook it off. Whatever. He was here now. And he had something to prove to her. "Start with _Agility_, then _Quick Attack_! Try turning it into a _Volt Tackle_!"

Shit. But then again, she had known all along what was coming. She hadn't ever seen _Volt Tackle _in action before so she wasn't sure about defensive or evasive measures she could take. If this had been all for fun, she might have let him carry out the attack just so she could gain the experience of seeing what kind of damage the particular technique carried but she couldn't afford to take the chance.

Pikachu started chanting the first two syllables of his name as he picked up speed and leapt forward nearly three steps at a time. The ground, wind, all rustled around his small body and, for a second, Misty was sure both she and Gyarados had lost sight of him. Then he reappeared, clawed his way up the water-snake's scaly hide and thrashed him upside the head half a dozen times, finally losing balance and beginning to fall back down. Unfortunately, he twisted around and gained control of the gravity that was working so hard against him, landing on his feet as Gyarados swaggered side to side to shake him off and away. The electric mouse circled around him until he found an opening at his center, the part of his body that constantly remained on the ground so that he could retain his balance.

This time his whole body, rather than just his tail, glowed a bright white as he dashed forward again, head first, sparks of electricity flitting around him as he approached his target. . .

"Gyarados, _Flamethrower_!"

The water-snake immediately curled up into himself, almost as a defensive maneuver, then spread out wide again, mouth gaping open as he growled, streaking flames flaring outward and burning the grass to a crispy black, also raising up into the air before evaporating into a non-toxic smog. Pikachu nearly avoided the same fate, changing trajectory at the last moment and veering to the far right and back around towards Ash again.

"Dammit," though he wasn't sure if he was more angry at the fact that his last plan hadn't worked or if it was because Misty hadn't said anything to him since the battle had started. Where had her smart-assed attitude gone? Unless. . . she'd already gotten what she wanted from him. He blinked, his frustration melting just a little bit as he considered the possibility.

"Stop wasting my time like this Ash; don't play around! I came looking for a serious match, you know!" Misty shouted, enough of a taunt in her tone of voice to get him to stop thinking on it anymore.

And then his anger returned full-force despite his own inquiries about Misty's motives. He didn't want to prove her right by looking for any excuse to end the battle early. She had no reason to egg him on anymore because, as stated before, he'd already consented to this fight. Obviously there was no deeper reason for her staying silent after they'd finally gotten this far. It was not a trick, nor was it something he should spend precious time wondering about.

"_Protect _again while you charge for a _Hyper Beam_, Gyarados!" Hah! But he had already known she'd want to use her Pokemon's best attack at some point. He wasn't going to just let her go ahead and do it.

"No chance, Myst!" Both trainers faltered for a second as the nickname long-forgotten passed his lips. But dammit, he hadn't meant to say that! It had just come naturally, like so long ago when the two of them had been best friends. Misty stared at him, not sure what to think of it (if there was anything to think at all). He wasn't going to get either of their hopes up. It hadn't meant a thing, right? "I - I mean, Pikachu, use _Thunder_, followed by your _Double-Edge_!"

"Pika!" And he braced himself, tail straight up towards the sky, long ears twitching, tiny paws clenched into fists, as he concentrated on the energy that existed around him, causing it to magnetically charge within his body, focusing on the red sacs in his cheeks. They crackled bright yellow-white and the sky grew dark for a moment as he unleashed the high voltage. Arcs of thunderous power ravaged the earth before him, a line of lightning shocking here and there every few paces as it bounced forward, trying to find its target.

But Gyarados' _Protect _held strong, a nearly invisible shield causing the vast amount of elemental power to reflect off of him as if he were wrapped in some rubber mesh. The giant Pokemon let out another roar as his own power began to grow. . . until it was suddenly shattered by Pikachu's _Double-Edge_ a few seconds later. This caused Gyarados to recoil and he flew backwards, hitting the ground hard and causing the dirt to pick up into the air and form billowing clouds around him as tried to recover. He did, though it was a rather slow process as he flinched his way back up to his original height, towering over the electric mouse once again.

"Are you okay, Gyarados?" Misty called out to him. He nodded to her with a low growl of affection and she stood strong again as well. If he could go on then she would let him. She wasn't finished here either, was she? "Okay, then try your _Headbutt _again!"

Pikachu, who had been awaiting further orders from Ash, didn't have a chance to scurry away in time. Ash, for his part, had thought that would be it for Gyarados, so he didn't expect it when he heard his Pokemon give a high-pitched wail before sailing backwards again, landing a few meters in front of him. More "smoke" floated into the air, although not nearly as much since Pikachu was so much smaller than his opponent was.

"_Hydro Pump_!"

Pikachu was just barely beginning to reach his feet again when he felt himself start to drown. He gargled a little bit, gasping for breath and being pushed further back towards his trainer. This, apparently, had been Misty's plan all along, and she took full advantage in giving Gyarados his next directive while the electric mouse spent the following few seconds attempting to catch his breath once more.

"Try for your _Hyper Beam_ again!" Gyarados' mouth gaped open, glowing white almost immediately. Apparently, Pikachu's _Double-Edge _hadn't been powerful enough to get rid of what he'd stored up last time, but had only cut it off before it was strong enough to unleash. And then the water-snake let loose a shriek and a huge ray of light dispersed from his mouth, aiming straight for Pikachu. The ground a meter or so below seemed to disintegrate as it traveled the distance necessary to impact with its target, rubble flying in all directions.

Pikachu was struggling to his feet but was obviously having trouble after the barrage of attacks he'd been hit with before. Ash seemed despondent, sure that he would lose here too, just like he'd lost in every other aspect of his life. But he couldn't do that! Please don't make him do that! His legs trembled just enough to notice as he took a cautious step forward and he held out an arm to his Pokemon. He should tell Misty he was forfeiting. He should withdraw now before causing his best friend anymore harm. He should just give up, shouldn't he?

But he still had one chance left.

"No! No, I can't let this. . . Argh," he started, his hands suddenly grasping his scalp in aggravation. He had to do something. "Pikachu, use _Agility _again!" The words left his mouth before he could think them over. He was sure it would be too late, he would lose, be humiliated. But worse than that, he'd be reminded of what he'd learned long ago. He would never be able to hold his ground here, would he?

Pikachu perked up almost immediately at the command he'd received from his trainer, lunging to the left and taking off full-speed once again so that Gyarados' aim was off. Of course, the water-snake tried to turn and face his adversary again though it was rather difficult when a cannon of energy was shooting from his mouth. But turn he did, even if most of the power had run out by the time he'd gotten a chance. Pikachu took the hit to the right half of his body mid-leap, spiraling and spinning through the air and landing on his stomach to Gyarados' left hand side. The water-snake was heaving breath after using such a tremendous amount of power on his last attack and Ash realized, yes, this could very well be his chance.

"Pikachu," his ears twitched at the sound of his name but he continued to lay there, unable to move. He was done for. He knew it. Ash knew it. But he was still intrigued with the fact that his trainer would continue to push him. As if he were trying. As if he had to win this, "Pikachu, I know it's hard. You've fought so well, so long, even though you didn't have to. You did it for me because I'm your friend. I'm thanking you for fighting this battle with me. . . but it's not over yet. Gyarados just needs one last good hit before he goes down. . . Please buddy. . . Get up, please. You can do this for me. I know you can. I've trained with you for years, even if it has been awhile, so I know what you're capable of. . . And I think you have one last _Volt Tackle _in you."

Nobody was quite sure where he had gathered the strength from. It was probably all due to willpower, all due to the insightful words his trainer had given him. Whatever the case, Pikachu staggered to his feet a moment later, gasping for breath and looking ready to collapse but already gritting his sharp little fangs and taking a few steps towards Gyarados, who was trying his best just to remain propped upright. Ash wasn't positive if it was the shock of seeing Pikachu recover from such a series of attacks or the same fear that he'd had to face a few seconds ago - that about how it must have been over for him and there was no use in even attempting to go on - or maybe it was even something else, but Misty didn't shout anymore commands for Gyarados to follow, not even another defensive measure like _Protect_. (Though her mouth did pucker open for a few seconds, as if she were trying to find one that she could give that he would also be able to follow.)

So Pikachu paced forward with the ever-present electricity crackling around his entire body, slowly picking up his pace until he'd reached a solid run, ramming his head into Gyarados' body, right below his mouth. Paralyzing, yellow-white light ricocheted up his limbs. One final roar and his vision blurred, his eyes crossing and his balance lost as he keeled over onto his side. Pikachu stood just long enough to watch this for himself, the satisfaction of victory kicking in before he let his legs give way as well and he laid there on the ground again. He wasn't unconscious, though it was probably only because he wanted to be awake long enough to see Ash's reaction.

Misty called back Gyarados without another word. She internally thanked him for his sacrifice, her eyes already on Ash and waiting for his next move.

Ash, not used to the feeling of victory, felt a strange rippling echo throughout his nerves as he took another cautious step forward. It was over. And he'd won. He wanted to smile and laugh, maybe give his classic peace sign pose for good effect, but he couldn't because it was simply too hard to believe. It wasn't about winning the battle though, no, he'd known he was going to win as soon as Pikachu had released his final _Volt Tackle_. . . But, Gods, it had felt so _good _to do that again for the first time in so long! He couldn't remember the last time his heart had raced so fast, the last time his limbs had been so shaken up, the last time his brain had been able to think a mile a minute so that his trainer instincts overrode any logic that should have coursed through him and, instead, he had shouted out anything that came to mind, somehow knowing that it was the right choice to make.

It terrified him, it excited him. . . It liberated him.

"Pi. . . Pikachu!" He called out, finally realizing that, yes, the battle was over and Gyarados was gone and his own Pokemon was just laying there, waiting for him to come retrieve him. And retrieve him he did, the gelatin mold suddenly running down his legs and into the ground so that he could dash forward, a little steadier on his feet. He dropped to his knees as soon as he'd approached him, gathering him up into his arms and holding him to his chest. He was proud of his friend. He was so proud and grateful and - dammit, that other feeling wasn't going away but he would just have to try and ignore it if he could.

"Pikapi. . ." Pikachu craned his neck upwards to stare him in the eyes and then licked at him affectionately, the whole thing reminiscent of the first day of their journey together. Their bond hadn't been this strong in a very long time, had it? Then he cuddled into his chest again and went to sleep and he rose to his feet again.

The battle was long since finished now but the rush to his adrenaline still remained. His nerves tingled, his eyes alight with fire, a slight perspiration to his brow. The itch was still there, telling him to pull out another Pokemon and commence a second match. But his self-control overpowered the urge. He hadn't felt so good, so natural in his element, for a few years. And looking at Misty, who stood a good forty meters from him even as she slowly approached, he could tell it had been the same for her.

Of course, the relation was erased the moment he realized - oh, crap. . .

"You know," Misty said awkwardly a minute later as she walked up to him, "considering we were both out of practice, I think that was pretty good."

"Y - yeah. . ." Ash replied, shaken by just _how _good. Or maybe it was because he'd expected her to say something about _it _right away. He heaved a shaky breath, starting to feel a little lightheaded especially under her fidgeting gaze. The thought of this new dilemma was enough for him to forget any fury he'd felt towards her in the beginning thanks to her taunts.

"And, uh, about _that_. . ." But whatever she was going to say next died in her throat when another shout rung out.

"Misty! A - Ash. . . ? Was it you two just now, battling in the middle of my preserve?" Professor Oak asked as he came out to meet them on the lawn, which they could see now had been scorched and (or) drowned thanks to the combination of elemental techniques. He surveyed the area in shock, which only doubled when he received a response to his question.

"Ah, yeah, sorry Professor. But I didn't see any stray Pokemon around so. . ." Come to think of it, where had the rest of his Pokemon gone anyway? He whirled around a few times, trying to catch sight of them, but they had long since dispersed from the battle area.

"No, of course you wouldn't see any. Tracey told me earlier that it would be safer to put them in their ranches. He said a storm was approaching." Finally catching on to the sum of everything and staring knowingly at Misty, he continued, "It looks like he was right."

"Huh? How was he right? It hasn't rained in almost a week. . ."

"No, never mind me, Ash. Maybe I'm just rambling. But thank you, Misty."

"Wait, why are you thanking her? She just helped destroy part of your land!"

"Never mind it, Ash," the Professor said for a second time as he shook Misty's hand in what appeared to be gratitude. Truth be told, he looked emotional enough to pull her close into a familial hug but was retraining himself quite well. Misty didn't say anything in return, rather just accepting what was offered to her blindly.

Or maybe _he _was the blind one. Either way, neither one of them were giving him any answers and he wasn't sure he could be bothered with asking again. After the rather strange occurrence, the group had gathered everything up and headed back inside the lab. Misty helped Tracey with the dishes while Ash saw to it that Gyarados and Pikachu were well-taken care of. It wasn't that he doubted Professor Oak but, well, after so much excitement, he just had to be sure. He had to be sure both that they would be okay after such an epic match and he had to be sure that that epic match had been real in the first place.

He still wondered why Misty hadn't said anything to him yet. She had egged him on so much just to get him to put up a fight. He had thought that his winning the battle would cause a reaction from her. . . Or maybe she was just too humiliated to think of anything to say? But she didn't seem to be playing the part at all. She looked. . . happy? Or content. It was like she had expected this outcome all along. But there was no way she could have known how it would make _him _feel, right?

Because the edge was still there, the temptation, he'd experienced for so many years when he was younger. It sat with him after he and Misty had left the lab, after they'd returned home - (since when was it home and not _his _house?) - and throughout dinner and his evening shower. He found it hard to sleep that night, laying there with his eyes wide open as though terrified by some sort of nightmare. He did fear an experience though it was more a pleasant dream than anything. He drifted off here and there throughout the very early morning hours but it never lasted long. And finally, as the sun crept up over the horizon and glared brilliantly through his window, he knew for sure.

Ash Ketchum was back.

However he didn't know what kind of game plan he should be making. He was still unclear about Misty's motives, though his brain was in overdrive trying to figure them (and her) out. She had returned to her place of silence, accepting the fact that he didn't want to socialize with her. Sometimes he felt the urge to yell at her, telling her that she should say whatever it was she had to say to him. Because there had to have been a reason for her pushing him into that battle after all, right? She seemed to be waiting patiently for him to understand on his own. And when he finally figured it all out for himself, he was shocked to find that she had done a pretty good job with fulfilling the responsibility she had given herself a couple weeks ago. Maybe the reason for his slip-up during their Pokemon battle had been because his subconscious had already reached the same conclusion. But he couldn't believe it. . . Could it be as simple as that?

A few more days passed after that, and Misty wasn't positive if they were without incident or just pure discomfort. Ash had become notably busy with either phone calls or appointments though she wasn't told even once who they were with. A few times she'd overheard Professor Oak on the video-phone, but Ash was never comfortable talking about anything when she was around so she was still ignorant towards the details. She wanted to ask what he was up to but still wasn't sure if it was her place to do so. Ash had slipped up only once, after all, and they hadn't yet breached discussion on it. She figured if he had wanted to say something by now, he would have already. She had already pushed him far enough. She wouldn't dare do anything more to press her luck.

Of course, this was all she could think up until the day Ash decided to wake her at six in the morning.

"Ugh. . ." A groan, "What are you doing?" She asked next, snapping awake almost immediately at the slightest shake of her shoulder. He'd never bothered to wake her up before, rather keeping his distance from her and letting her do as she pleased. Of course the two of them had begun to open up little by little over time after their initial hashing out but it was still nothing compared to when they were younger.

"C'mon, get up. We're going shopping." This was also something new. Ash had never invited her out before unless it was to the lab, and even then, the word "invite" didn't quite fit the definition. Still, he told her this simply, as if it would explain itself.

"For groceries?" She asked with a yawn. She had noticed the fridge and cupboards slowly emptying out over the past few weeks, though Ash had apparently given up on refilling them. Until now anyway.

"No, not groceries. For you."

"For. . . What are you talking about?"

"You'll see. Now c'mon, get up so we can get ready to go."

He ushered her into the shower upstairs, something she found just a little bit embarrassing though she chose to ignore it. She blow-dried her hair and threw on one of the repetitive styles of clothing she'd gotten so used to over the past few months, a long black tee-shirt and jean-colored cargo pants held up by a belt with flip-flops as an excuse for shoes even as the harsher autumn-winter weather approached them.

As it turned out, Ash had meant clothing shopping. He led Misty to one of the two department stores in Pallet and budgeted out about twenty-thousand yen. Misty felt a little awkward at first in accepting such a charitable act of kindness but he didn't really give her much of a choice in the end.

Neither of them commented on the fact that almost everything she picked out was either blue, yellow, red, or a combination of the three aforementioned colors. Ash didn't ask for thanks though she obviously offered it. He did accept, though it was rather distracted. Misty would have been more upset if she wasn't so grateful. And as she was finishing up in check-out, she noticed him buying a rather adorable backpack the same day. It was in the shape of a Pikachu, the ears looping around the wearer's shoulders; rather fitting for him since his best friend was a Pikachu. . . even if it was a little girly.

Misty wondered if the trip had been his way of thanking her for _that,_ though he had yet to tell her that he'd even figured out what she'd meant in doing it to or for him. However, at this point, she had finally started to see that the two of them would never be able to talk about _everything _with each other like they did when they were kids. She was getting her hopes up just by considering the fact that Ash had finally given up his reproachful attitude towards her since he didn't look at her now the same way he did a fair few months ago. It was, again, nothing compared to before the tragic incident having to do with Team Rocket, but still. . . Dare she say that he had _come to terms_ with the ordeal that they'd faced? Of course, she would never know one hundred percent if he refused to tell her and could only speculate the best and worst of the possibilities.

The day after that, he told her that he would be out until late evening. The way he phrased it led her to believe that she wasn't supposed to ask questions about specifics (i.e., where he was going, what he was doing that would take so long). She fell asleep before he got home, practically bored into a coma (though it was so ridiculously funny that she knew she would never be able to admit it to him). The next morning, she woke up to his expression of self-satisfaction and fulfillment, though she really had no clue where it had come from. The day after _that_, she saw him both send a package away (to where, she didn't know) and accept a package himself. He went upstairs to his room to open it, so she never had the chance to see what was in that large, manila-colored envelope. But when he came back downstairs and decided to make himself something to eat, she saw for the first time in forever that Ash was smiling. She prayed that, someday soon, he would finally be able to explain to her the reason why.

And just when things seemed to finally slow down again, she woke up to him running out the door for another extended period of time. Though it wasn't as long as a few days ago, he came back with the same smile - (smirk?) - he'd had then, though it was mollified by the melancholy sound of his voice when he told her he'd be upstairs for the rest of the afternoon so she could do whatever she wanted. Misty heard a lot of strange noises, stomping around and grunting, what appeared to be heavy lifting and plenty of household items being moved around. Was he redecorating his room or something? Well, whatever got his rocks off. . .

That night she showered and changed into one of the outfits he'd bought for her (though for some reason, she couldn't find the one she was originally looking for, but no matter) and went to bed. She wondered if he would ever tell her what was so important over the past week. She wondered if he'd ever figure out just what she'd meant for him by forcing him to participate in that Pokemon battle. She wondered if he was somehow making plans to have her finally removed from his residence and that was why he wasn't telling her just yet. . . Although she didn't like wondering about _that _particular notion so she quit on it soon after.

She fell asleep sprawled out on her makeshift bed to those thoughts and with no covers, mostly because she hadn't planned on sleeping at all, but whatever. The sleep was long and heavy and dreamless, which was just fine for her, though a little shocking since she'd grown so used to the nightmares that plagued her for months previous. Did it mean something ominous? Something fantastic? She was just fine with not knowing the answer because, as she'd told Ash awhile ago, she knew that she was never meant to be happy, which meant that only the worst thing could be approaching her.

_"We gotta go, Misty, we're late because you slept in!"_

Oh, wait, surely this must have been a dream after all right? But it was pleasant. . . It reminded her of when she and Ash used to travel together. . . He was always so one-track-minded. . . Why couldn't they just relax once in awhile?

_"Let's go, Misty! I mean it; I told the Professor that I'd be there at nine o'clock sharp to pick Pikachu up!"_

Wait a minute, why did Professor Oak have Pikachu again? She knew Ash had been late on the first day of his journey but _they _hadn't known each other yet so he shouldn't have been calling out to her to keep up, right? But either way, she had missed his loud (and slightly obnoxious) personality. Maybe this was her subconscious giving her what she wanted, even if it was only in her dreams. . .

"I'm serious, Myst, wake up!" And she finally felt someone make contact with her physical form, causing her to thrash around. Her eyes snapped open and she drew breath sharply as she flew into a sitting position. Ash withdrew from her enough so that he wouldn't be hit by her flailing fists and, a few seconds later, she came to terms with what he'd just called her and turned to face him.

"Wh - what was. . . that?" She asked. She didn't want to be anymore specific lest he tell her that she _must _have been dreaming because there was no way he would ever be able to call her that again and _mean _it. But he smiled softly at her as though giving her permission to accept the friendly notion.

"I thought that it would look good on you, s - so to say. . ." He told her, reminding her of the first time he'd called her by that nickname when he was thirteen years old. She had told him then that she could never agree to it, that he'd better never call her such a thing again. It wasn't that she had hated it. . . It was just hard to accept anything that related her to the fake identity she's come up with for herself after her mother's death. Back then, she had stubbornly decided that she would keep the alias for safety reasons (so that Team Rocket would never find her) but deep down she knew she couldn't give up the one thing her mother had given her. _Aurora. _Her name.

However, once she had realized her feelings for Ash, she had begun to absolutely love the sound of that very same alias when he spoke it. She started to believe she could be that person, the one who was a little violent, maybe loud, obviously suffering from self-esteem issues due to her older sisters' taunting her on appearance and skill. . . But she would have been relatively normal, and he would have loved her regardless. Alas, her burden has caused her to deny the joy she sought in that exchange and, though Ash had called her by his signature nickname once or twice after, he had assumed all along that she wouldn't let him get away with making it a casual thing.

"I," she tried to figure out how she wanted to phrase her next statement, "I don't mind it, I guess. But why are you calling me that?"

Ash cleared his throat as a means to prove his struggle in finding the words to say to her.

". . . It's not going to be easy, you know." She quirked an eyebrow, as if asking what he could possibly mean by that, but he continued before she could voice the inquiry. "It can't just go back to the way it was before, I mean, _we _can't. But I can try a little harder, I guess. Um. . . what I mean to say is that I. . . finally understand what you were doing for me. When you told me your story and let me vent my anger on you, when you decided to bait me into that Pokemon battle. I didn't even realize that you were doing exactly what you said you would. It's not complete, I'm sure we both realize that, because it's a process. I'm not completely, uh," he furrowed his brow before deciding he couldn't come up with his own word for it and using hers instead, "_fixed _yet. But you've repaired me enough so that I can start returning the favor."

"What are you talking about?" She asked him, an edge to her voice. Dammit, she didn't want to cry! But the tears were leaking out from her eyes anyway. More than anything else, she hadn't expected him to ever even notice that she was just as broken as he was. She was sure she could have spelled it out for him in words and actions and he would neither notice or care. But then again, she had never given him enough credit, had she?

But he didn't elaborate much just yet, still continuing to offer her the kind smile she'd woken up to a few minutes ago.

"C'mon I said. We're already late because you decided to sleep in for once."

"Late?" She sniffed a little bit and wiped her face with the discarded blanket bundled around her waist. "Late for what?"

"We've gotta go pick Pikachu up from Professor Oak. And maybe one or two of my other Pokemon."

"Why?"

"Well, because I want to reach Viridian City by the end of the day." She had just enough time to think of how she never, ever wanted to go there again and wondered how he could be so insensitive before he continued. "And the sooner we go through there, the sooner we get past the forest. And then we'll be in Pewter."

Crap. The Viridian Forest meant she'd have to put up with hordes of bug-type Pokemon. But that was actually in afterthought compared to what took her by the most surprise.

"We're going to Pewter?"

"Of course we are! We have to, you know? How else will I get my Boulder Badge?"

She had finally had enough of his half-assed answers. She was far more frustrated than upset by what he'd told her a few minutes ago about _trying _and _fixing _and _returning the favor_. . .

"Dammit, Ash, just tell me what the hell you're talking about."

"A week or so ago, I went to the lab to take my Pokemon training liscencing test, and I obviously passed. I'm now legally allowed to capture and train Pokemon again. So I thought I would start with my roots. I'm a participant in this year's Indigo League. . . but I have to win my badges first, you know?"

What? Did he think she was stupid? Of _course _she knew that. Part of her was ecstatic. Her plan had worked. Ash had always loved training Pokemon, nobody had been able to cope with him quitting because of her disappearance and Mrs. Ketchum's death. She had known all along that he had coped the least of everyone. So she had tried to revive the love he had for training and battling and. . . and it had worked! But still, another part of her was scared. He was participating in the _Indigo _League. That meant. . .

"We'll have to go to Cerulean City. My sisters. . ." She fumbled with the word. They were her family still, though she wondered if they considered her the same thing after all this time.

"Yeah, but that won't be for a few weeks. I mean, we have a lot to do before then. Training, walking through Mt. Moon, getting Brock to join up with us again. . . It shouldn't be too difficult - he told me earlier this week that an assistant was sent out finally so his dad is resuming leadership by the end of the month. That should give me just enough time to get there and battle him for my badge. It's been a really long time since I fought Brock. I wonder what Pokemon he has on his team now. . ." Ash contemplated this while Misty absorbed all of the information he'd just offered her.

Ash was training Pokemon again. He was inviting her - and she meant actually _inviting _her - to come with him on his new journey. He was going to have Brock accompany them as well. Things were. . . returning to normal, slowly but surely. And then they were going to go to Cerulean. . . Hm, so that must have been what he meant. She had voiced her fears weeks ago about avoiding her sisters for fear of their reaction to her appearance. She had long since cleaned up and gotten herself together. . . but she wasn't sure she could handle the reunion. Then again, she had done her best with Ash and knew now that she'd finally succeeded. Maybe she stood a better chance than originally presumed.

"But I'm not even packed. I can't just walk out of here wearing the clothes on my back." She noted, as if she were _trying _to find the flaw in his master plan. She noted that he was already dressed, from his jacket to his sneakers, from his hat to his gloves. She was still wearing her blue plaid pajamas that she'd picked out the night before.

"No, you're fine. I got your bag packed up last night." He jacked a finger over his shoulder and she finally noticed the same Pikachu bag she saw him buy a week or so ago sitting there beside the video-phone. Her new shoes were sitting next to it and just waiting for her to pull them on.

"But. . . I have more than that. I mean, you bought me at least twice as many clothes as what could fit in there. . ."

"Oh, yeah. I sent the rest to Cerulean," which explained the package he'd sent away a few days ago, "which was convenient since I received my new Pokedex the same day," which explained the package he'd _accepted _also.

"Wh - what? But my sisters. . . !" She shrieked again in fear and anger.

"Well, I figured it would force you to go there if you ever wanted to see them again. Er, I mean your clothes. . . though I guess I could mean your sisters too when I say that. . ."

"What about the house?"

"I talked it over with Professor Oak. He's agreed to sign for the mortgage from now on. I'll be sending him money every six months from battle winnings to pay it with." He explained, sounding more confident in his revived skills the longer she let him go on about them.

"Wh - what about May?" It was sort of off-topic, but he couldn't possibly be planning to avoid her forever. Misty would never allow it.

"Well, I figure that I never got to finish the Hoenn League thanks to. . . Well, you know what happened. So after I make it through the Indigo League, I'll journey back to Littleroot and register with Professor Birch for the Hoenn League too." His expression grew somber here, further explaining what he wanted to do, "And until then, we're going to call her family every time we reach a new town. You're going to talk to them until they give you permission to speak with May again. I don't think she's as bad as we thought all this time. She just needs proof that things are better. She just needs to see you and know that you're okay. You'll give it to her, Misty. You owe her that much, don't you? After all of the faith she put in you while you were working for Giovanni."

"And Team Ro - I mean, Jessie, James, and Meowth?" She spoke softly. Ash wanted things to return to normal - _obviously - _but he couldn't honestly think it would be smooth sailing when there was such a prominently missing element in their travels.

"Well," and his brow furrowed again. He _had _been thinking on it after all, "they always used to find us no problem, or we'd always run into them somehow. . . I think we're bound to meet up with them again without even trying.

"But what's with all of these questions, Misty?" He asked, staring her down. She didn't dare look him in the eye or voice her thoughts on the matter beyond her initial doubt. "Are you still afraid?" She flinched at the acknowledgment but that was all the response she was afforded. "Of course you are. . . That's fine. But you can't do this. You stayed here and helped me confront my demons. I'll still need your help," though it was terribly hard to admit it, "even when I'm out there, training with Pikachu and the others again. And I know you need my help too. You came to see me because you couldn't face anyone else, so I'm going to help you do that, finally. We're not going to run away anymore. Didn't you tell Brock you wouldn't abandon me again?"

She finally looked him in the eyes once more, though hers were wide with shock. She didn't think Brock would tell him about that guarantee she'd made over the phone a few weeks ago. It wasn't that it embarrassed her or that it meant anything special. To _her _anyway. But Ash seemed to take the words to heart, and he was counting on her staying true to them.

"No. No I won't. Nothing could ever make me do that again." She heaved a breath, still unsure about doing so much so soon. She hadn't even known they were suddenly going to leave town today. Although she probably should have suspected something more when Ash had taken her shopping for clothes. It seemed a trivial way of thanking her for giving him his life's purpose back, and she saw no reason for either of them to care if she wore his things around the house or at the lab. . . But to travel in them? No, she should probably have something more suited to her style. And her gender.

"Like I said before, it's not perfect, and it won't be easy. But Pokemon journeys never are, right?" He gave her a smile as though to boost her confidence but all it did was cause her heart to leap into her throat. "We'll have a lot to accomplish, a lot of goals to make. And who knows? Something unexpected could happen. We could meet rare Pokemon." Yeah, like he hadn't met enough of those already. "Maybe we'll save the world." Again, hadn't he done that a few times? Why did he need to do it anymore? "We could even fall in love." And where the hell had that come from!

Misty blinked in response, the shock giving way to a bright red flush. She was flattered, she was a little confused. But mostly flattered. He was talking about _them, _right? As in, to fall in love with _each other_? She didn't think it was possible that her second chance would count as far as these feelings that she should have given up on a long time ago. But perhaps it was better that she hadn't if Ash was willing to give her such hope.

Finally she nodded in agreement. It wasn't like she could stop him. And the last time she checked, he couldn't do anything without her. How many times had she saved him now? She couldn't just up and quit when the going got a little tougher for her! So she would have to accompany him again. . . Maybe this time they would reach the end of the world before having to stop. Maybe this time they would reach _beyond _the end of the world. She had always hoped Ash would be able to count on her for such a thing.

"Fine. . . I'm in. Let's go." She finally rose to her feet and accepted her new responsibility, "Go call Professor Oak and tell him we'll be there in half-an-hour. I just need to get dressed and brush my hair so I'll be ready to go in about fifteen minutes."

"Alright, but hurry up! Like I said, we're already late and we pushed it even further because you wouldn't just come with me!" He seemed a little too excited, a little too much like sixteen year old Ash, though it was nice to think that _he _really had been in there somewhere. Then, just before he was going to leave her to her own devices, he turned back again and gave her a small but precious offering of gratitude.

"Thank you, Misty."

She was too choked up to ask him right away what he was thanking her for, instead going to remove an outfit from the bag he'd packed for her, running upstairs to the bathroom so that she could change her clothes in privacy. She brushed her short hair straight so that the knots were unraveled and then stared in the mirror.

She noticed a flush on her cheeks. They were sure to get brighter.

And a small grin appearing on her lips. It was sure to grow wider.

A stirring in her heart. It was sure to get stronger.

A thought crossing her mind. They - (though she wasn't sure if she meant she and Ash, or all of them in general) - would fight for the "happy ending" that had long been evading them, and it would be a fight worth facing if she had anything to say about it.

A new silver band strapped to one of her wrists, an empty Pokeball clasped to it. It had been Psyduck's, though she found it impossible to throw away. But she'd been able to carry these weights before, remembering her mother's picture. Unfortunately, it hadn't survived her final battle against Giovanni, though it seemed to have helped _her _to survive. But these burdens did not hinder her, rather helping her to persevere. And she was sure she would need them, especially now if she were to keep going.

It was time to start anew.

OoOoO

**Final-Super-Fantastic-End Notes** - Holy shit. Well, it's been five or so years in reaching this far but. . . It's over. It's done. I'm so happy and excited. I couldn't believe it either, when I got down to the nitty-gritty, this part was actually really easy to write. But I've been thinking long and hard on what I actually wanted to happen so that's probably why. I mean, I wanted to do more with the other characters (May, Jessie, James, Meowth) but I have to admit I didn't know where I could fit them all in and resolve everything. So I just let Ash open his big mouth and start spouting virtuous things. Lol.

I spent an entire day editing this too so I hope that I got most (or all!) of the typos. If you have questions or concerns, we here at PokeshippingandMisty4Ever, Inc. (not really) will be happy to take your calls. I pray that all of my other fics will be as successful as this one, maybe even more-so. I also pray that they won't take as long to write. (Did I mention it has been five years? Lol.) Oh, and here's something for the record books! This chapter is longer than any of the others (which adds to the whole reason why I didn't pursue resolutions with the other characters)! It stands at about twenty-nine thousand words (not including notes), which is about five thousand more than the last chapter (the longest until now). I hope that it was enough reading for you all, and that you were all pleased with the final results. This was my favorite chapter to write (I loved how it was more about the aftermath and the emotions and rebuilding, rather than action and angst), and I think that I pulled it off well.

Admittedly, the final line was hard to think up. The one you see before you was not the original one written but it suited the finale much better. This story was not supposed to be a "love story" or an "adventure story", which is the same way I feel about my other huge project, SKoL. That one is supposed to be about life, while this one is supposed to be about conquering your demons. I think. Lol. Yeah, let's go with that. . . Although if you found any other morals you think suited this fic, please let me know. I love hearing what you all think of my work.

Character theme songs! (Lol, just thought it'd be cool to throw this in.) Misty's theme song is "Hear Me" by Kelly Clarkson. It was particularly useful as inspiration for writing her character while she was working under Giovanni. Ash's theme song is "The End Where I Begin" by The Script. It really suited the person he became in the epilogue. I had a couple more planned out but. . . I forgot them! Lol. If you guys know of any I could use for the plot or other characters then let me know! I'd much appreciate it!

Now it's off to work on SKoL, which was stated in my profile as my next project for continuation. Now that this fic is out of the way, I should be okay. . . Although I've been highly distracted lately by other ideas. I don't think it'll be too much of a problem. All of them are short stories (three chapters a piece, tops). Please look forward to reading them!

Thank you, everyone, for continuing to support me as I finished this. Please leave a review and tell me what you thought of it (whether it's just about the finale or about the fic as a whole). I will gladly accept all of it.


End file.
